Supernatural Blood
by Elpin
Summary: Dean knew they shouldn't have split up while in a vamp-county. SLASH Eric/Sam
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Supernatural Blood (Oneshot)  
><strong>Author:<strong> **elpin**  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Supernatural/True Blood crossover.  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Sam/Eric  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Dean knew they shouldn't have split up in the middle of a vamp-county.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>:Swearing, blood sucking (kinda a given in a vampire fic), gay sex.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17 cause we all know where this is going eventually.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I own neither True Blood nor Supernatural, but I do enjoy mixing them together for entertainment purposes only.

-:-

_Supernatural Blood _

'Dammit, Sam, where the hell are you?' Dean did not like being this deep in vampire territory alone. Not that he would ever admit as much to anyone, but these days hunters did best to stay away from vamp-counties, as they were known. It was a stand-off, really, and vamps liked to congregate around their hangouts. For some reason these parts of the South were a perfect habitat for them.

Dean grimaced when he saw a church with a sign by the road proclaiming "God Hates Fangs." What he wouldn't give to have that "n" gone. Bigotry the world could always handle. People knowing about vampires? Dean didn't think either side would survive.

He knew splitting up had been a bad idea, even for a salt-and-burn. Sam was suppose to get the girl back home while Dean did his pyro-thing.

The motel room had been empty when he got back, however. Sam's phone was off. Dean decided to do the classy thing and not panic right away. He went back to the bar they had stopped at on their way to the job.

"Merlotte's" sounded like a more classier place than it looked. That was all right with Dean.

The place was packed compared to the last time he had been in there; it looked like the place to be on Friday nights for the locals. Dean glanced around, failed to see Sam, and headed for the bar. He noted there was a petite blonde waiting on tables, while a feisty-looking black woman tended the bar. The fake redhead from before was gone.

'Hey,' he greeted, bringing out a photo of Sam for just this sort of occasion. 'I was wondering if you'd seen my brother in here tonight?' He held up the photo. She was nice enough to stop working for half a second. He figured she was going to brush him off, but then she did a double-take and studied the photo for real.

'Yeah, actually, I think I did. Real tall guy, right?'

'That'd be him.' Dean tried to tell his heart to calm the fuck down. It wasn't a lead yet if she couldn't tell him where Sam had gone.

'Yeah, I saw him alright,' she said, her voice showing disdain. Dean frowned. Sam didn't usually illicit that kind of reaction. 'He was talking to a vamp. Sounded like they were headed over to Fangtasia afterwards.'

'Fangtasia?' _Seriously_? Dean wanted to add. Man, he hated life post-Revelation. Why couldn't those damn vampires just stay hidden? Being out and about screwed with the whole system: Supernatural on one side, normal on the other. And with names like _Fangtasia?_ If you were a hunter the world had gone from manageable-evil-crazy to Wonderland-crazy overnight.

'Yeah, it's a vamp club in Shreveport,' she said. She sighed suddenly and put down the glass she had been filling. 'You said he was your brother?' Dean nodded. 'Well, no offence, but they looked real cosy. I thought he was a fangbanger.' Dean swallowed hard at the word. Of all the fucked-up shit that came out of the not-so-Great Revelation, fangbangers were definitely the most fucked up.

'See, that's not possible,' Dean said with a shake of the head. Before she had a chance to argue he continued, 'just give me the directions, please?'

He hit the road not a minute later. If some vamp had gotten his hands on Sam then the so-called unofficial ceasefire was shot to hell, according to him. It didn't matter if the vamps were supposedly only drinking True Blood; Dean was a goddamned hunter, and he was gonna hunt some vamps tonight.

The sign outside said "Fangtasia," but it looked like a warehouse. A big hulk stood guard, probably a vamp. Dean had to play it cool. They were probably going to check for weapons. The goon was probably trained to spot hunters trying their luck. Dean hated it with a passion, but he was going to have to go in naked.

He tried to look like the other youths catching some fresh air around the door; someone eager to try to get a vamp to suck his face, and other parts. He shuddered at the thought.

The doorman asked for ID, surprisingly. He looked Dean up and down.

'Aren't you a pretty one,' he grumbled. Dean tried to look flattered, but it might have come out as constipated. In any case the man waved him inside.

The inside of the bar looked like a cross between a biker hangout and a strip-joint. Dean couldn't make up his mind if he really, really liked it or really, really hated it. Ignoring the very uncomfortable stares from vamps and humans alike, he made his way further inside, scanning every shadow and corner, looking for a mop of hair sticking out above the crowd.

No luck yet. Dean was feeling the looks keenly. He was just about to give up when a tall and pale vampette blocked his way.

'You look like you're looking for someone,' she purred. She was dirty-blonde and felt old. Dean had been around vamps enough to know the difference between the newly hatched covens that they used to clean out regularly, and these world-weary ones that had managed to stay clear of hunters before the Revelation.

'No one in particular,' he replied, giving a smile and looking her up and down for show. Man, she was built fine, for a vamp, but he dreaded that knowing look in her eyes. 'But I was just about to get some air so if you'll excuse me.'

'Come with me,' she said. Shit, Dean's fight or flight instincts were screaming to get the fuck out. He was a hunter in the middle of a nest of them. But they played by the rules now, at least on paper, so maybe if he stayed calm they wouldn't bother covering up a murder. She turned her back to him, a show of strength, and walked away. He knew he could do nothing but follow.

They arrived at some sort of stage with a throne on it. A vamp, a proper old fucker, sat artfully slouched in it. He was pale and blond with eyes that seem to bore into Dean. The hunter forced himself to unclench his jaw.

'I don't like hunters in my establishment,' the vamp said. The vampette disappeared off somewhere, leaving Dean in front of the throne alone like some prisoner about to be sentenced.

'I don't want any trouble,' he said, opening his palms to the vamp briefly. He kept his arms away from his body to appear non-threatening. The situation could deteriorate very quickly if tempers rose. Dean had heard about a massacre in Mississippi somewhere when hunters had stormed a vamp-club. They had killed the fangbangers too, and much as Dean thought they were pretty fucked up to want to bang a vamp, they had still been innocent humans.

'Then what are you looking for?'

'My brother, Sam. Real tall, brown hair, puppy-dog eyes.' He indicated Sam's height, keeping his eyes on the vamp for any signs on recognition. If the vamp had Sam hidden somewhere then another massacre was going to take place before the night was out.

'Is your brother a hunter?'

'Yeah,' Dean knew it was pointless to lie.

'Then why do you think he would be here?'

'Honestly, I think one of you fuckers got to him and dragged his ass here,' Dean spat out before he could stop himself. He was tired of feeling on edge and he wanted Sam and him out of this redneck town before he killed something. 'But I don't know. All I do know is that someone saw him talking to a vamp at Merlotte's over in Bontemps and that they might have come here. I just want to find him and get the hell out, I swear.' The vamp smiled. He would have been a fairly handsome man if not for the freakishly pale skin and blood-shot eyes. He looked kinda nordic, definitely not local.

Dean fell silent, wondering if he'd just let his mouth get him into more trouble than he could handle. The vamp had a small smile on his face, but it wasn't malicious. It was almost admiring, and that was actually freaking Dean out a hell of a lot more. He was about to open his mouth and demand answers when the vamp finally spoke.

'What's your name?' Dean hesitated before mentally conceding that it was pointless not to give it.

'Dean,' he bit out.

'Well, Dean, I am afraid I haven't seen your Sam. I don't usually just let hunters waltz in and out of my establishment, but in your case I think I am going to make an exception.' Dean tried not to let his relieved release of breath show, but he saw the smirk on the vamp and knew he'd been caught. God, he hated these bastards.

'Gee, thanks,' he replied, pointlessly.

'You're welcome,' the vamp replied with feigned courtesy. 'I hope we cross paths again, Dean.' Without waiting for another sign of dismissal – like Dean was going to wait on a vamp to dismiss him – he turned and stalked out with as much of his pride as he could muster. Once outside in the fresh air he hurried to the Impala, grateful to be out of the blood stench. True Blood or real blood, it still smelled of vamps sucking on anything alive.

He got in the car and slammed the door. He almost turned the key before he stopped short and tried to clear his head. Now what? Either the vamp was lying, which was entirely possible, or Sam really hadn't been tricked into coming here. Maybe he should wait for daylight and try to break in. He could take out the human guards – they deserved it anyway for guarding those creeps – and check the basement. Dean was fairly certain the place had a basement. No vampire haunt would be complete without one.

He was just about to turn the key and pretend to drive off when the door was pulled open and a supernaturally strong arm reached in and pulled him out. He was slammed against the side of the car. It felt like his spine was gonna snap across the hood.

'I smell hunter,' a voice whispered. He got a fist in his face, his head snapping so hard to the side he was sure he got whiplash too.

Dean knew they shouldn't have split up in the middle of a vamp-county.

He didn't get to regret it much longer as he lost consciousness with another blow.

XXX

Sam was really, really annoyed at Dean, which was nothing knew, but when they were this far gone into vampire-infested places it wasn't as easily ignored.

Not that vampires these days were all killing humans. Sam had to admit, most of them seemed like normal people now that they could quell their thirst with True Blood. It meant one less baddie species to hunt, but it also created a hell of a lot of tension between hunters and their former game.

Sam knew there were old vampires who just used True Blood as a cover for much more nefarious purposes, but after the Great Revelation it wasn't their job anymore. It was the police and IRS' job to sort them out. Still, you didn't push your luck around these parts, and you didn't advertise that you were a hunter.

Apparently, you didn't advertise that you were a vamp always either. The girl they had rescued from a vengeful spirit turned out to be one herself. She had a nasty cut on her arm so she had let Sam drive the car. He had wanted to stop so he could look at it, but she told him to stop at the bar they passed so she could get a True Blood. She felt thirsty, she said.

Sam had tried not to freak out. She seemed perfectly normal. She even met a couple of friends at the bar, all sitting and drinking True Blood. Sam hadn't really felt inclined to insult them, so he let her buy him a drink and tell the others who he had saved her from her annoying dead grandmother.

On the way back to the motel (the vamps had disappeared off to a club of some sort) Sam realised his phone wasn't working. It must have been damaged when he fell while fighting off the spirit, or maybe the batteries were dead.

The motel was empty. He figured Dean might be taking his time covering the grave again, or maybe the jerk had gone to a bar. He hadn't seen him at Merlotte's though, and it was getting pretty late. How long had it taken him to walk back? Sam borrowed the phone in the reception. Dean's phone rang for ages before it got picked up, only it wasn't Dean. Sam knew it instantly; the breathing was off. After a beat of silence a voice spoke teasingly.

'If you're looking for your hunting buddy he's all tied up at the moment.' Sam willed himself calm.

'Where is he? What do you want?' Sam knew it was pointless to hope they wanted anything else than to slowly drain Dean and then kill him.

'We're having a party,' the voice said. 'And your pal here was nice enough to bring the drinks.' Sam heard mocking laughter in the background. He closed his eyes and punched the wall in frustration.

'Where are you?'

'I think one hunter is enough for tonight. Maybe you can come by tomorrow.' The phone went dead and Sam felt his knees go weak. Shit, this was bad. They had gotten out of bad before, but this was different. The vampires were going to kill Dean slowly, just because of what he was, and Sam didn't even know were to start looking.

Then he remembered the vampire club they had been talking about at the bar. Fangtasia, wasn't it? If Sam could get there before sun-up and ask around maybe one of the vamps would talk to him? He knew not all of them were killers, like the girl he had saved- okay, so maybe she hadn't needed as much saving as they had thought, but she hadn't known shit about getting rid of vengeful spirits so they had helped her out at least. Maybe she was there and knew who to ask.

Sam knew he would have to leave his weapons behind, but kept a knife in his boot just in case. The guy in the reception knew the club and gave him directions. He stole the first car he saw in the parking lot and drove like a bat out of hell to Fangtasia.

XXX

The club was cheesy as hell. Sam could barely contain rolling his eyes. He tried to look inconspicuous, but his damn height, as usual, was making that difficult. People were mostly too drunk or too high on some drug to notice him, though. He looked around for the girl, but the place was so dark he doubted he would be able to find her. He continued to scan the crowd, hoping.

He stopped short when his eyes landed on a vampire sitting alone on a raised dais. It looked like a VIP seating area, with the main chair definitely reminiscent of a throne. The vampire was slouched in it, looking bored. He was... really good looking. Sam swallowed. He would never, ever tell Dean that he sometimes found vampire paleness attractive. He wasn't a fangbanger or anything, but he could appreciate their ethereal qualities without feeling guilty... most of the time.

This vampire, however, looked regal on top of everything else. He was an old one, that was obvious. Sam didn't like to think about old vampires. It made the history-geek in him itch. He wanted to question them, to learn how they had survived the centuries. It was too fascinating to ignore.

He was moving through the crowd towards the vamp before he could stop himself. This one looked like he owned the place, and probably did, so maybe he knew which vampires were more likely to kidnap a hunter. When the vamp finally looked towards Sam and spotted him, Sam kept his face a mask. Which way was the best to play this? He went for straight-forward.

'You the boss around here?' he asked when he stood in front of the dais. The slouched vampire hadn't moved, but Sam noted he had tensed.

'Who wants to know?'

'I'm Sam Winchester, and I'm looking for my brother.'

'You're a hunter,' the vamp said. Sam kept his posture. He couldn't help but be a little impressed though.

'How did you know?' The vamp smiled. It was a very handsome smile, but Sam really didn't have time to think about that now. Focus, Sammy, he heard Dean say in his head.

'Your walk,' the vamp said. 'We don't like hunters in here. I would ask you to leave. Now.'

Shit, Sam thought. The vamp looked away pointedly, seeming to be more interested in the mindless crowd. Since he couldn't just leave without trying, Sam stepped up on the dais. It was his go-to intimidation technique and although he knew in his mind that it wouldn't work on a old vampire no matter how short the guy was, his body didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

'I need to find my brother. A gang of vampires kidnapped him and they're going to drain him, kill him and dump his body somewhere. Maybe even somewhere close to this place? A murdered hunter isn't exactly the sort of thing you want around this law-abiding establishment is it?' Sam stared down at the vampire, knowing he might be killed for his trouble if this was the kind of vampire who didn't give a shit about being law-abiding. The vampire stared up at him with eyes that seemed both incredibly alive and dead at the same time. Sam almost mistook it for passion, if he didn't know better. Old vamps like this were rumoured to be zombie-like. Hunters liked to think of them as the cold-hearted businessmen of the vampire-world.

Slowly, the vampire placed his hands on the throne's armrests. He pushed himself up and Sam made a point of not stepping back. The closer he was the more his height was an advantage. He was surprised, shocked actually, when the vampire straightened and looked Sam straight in the eye.

They were almost, if not exactly, the same height. Sam knew his surprise must have shown on his face because the vampire smiled again. Not a cruel or mocking smile, but a pleased smile, as if he too had missed being able to look someone in the eye.

'Well, Sam Winchester,' he said. 'My name is Eric and I am a law-abiding vampire, actually. What proof do you have that your brother was kidnapped?'

'I called his cell and a vamp picked up. He said they were going to have a party and that my brother was going to be the drink.' Sam tried not to lose focus as he was staring into those supernatural eyes. Eric seemed to be finding something interesting to stare at in Sam's eyes too.

'You and your brother are not like other hunters,' the vamp said.

'You've seen him?' Sam asked urgently. 'When? Was he with someone?'

'He was looking for you actually,' Eric said. He finally stepped back and to the side, indicating someone over. Sam watched a pretty girl vampire come over, also old. Eric whispered something in her ear. She looked skeptical, but shrugged in defeat and sauntered off. Eric turned back to Sam, who was waiting impatiently.

'Do you know where he is?'

'I may have an inkling,' he answered cryptically and Sam sighed in frustration. 'Come with me, we do not have much time.'

_Jesus, what was he doing?_ Sam asked himself as he followed Eric outside. He was getting help from a vampire. Eric asked which car Sam had come in and Sam pointed to the rusty heap he had stolen.

'Do you have a weapon?' Eric asked as they approached a car.

'I have a knife,' Sam admitted. Eric opened the door and got in. Sam did the same on the passenger side.

'Then I suggest you stay out of my way,' Eric said as they drove off at high speed.

'Why are you helping me?' Sam asked, even though he knew it probably wasn't a good idea to point out the vampire's unusual actions.

'Because I have no interest in bringing both the police and a bunch of hunters down on my jurisdiction. We're trying to keep the peace around here.'

'Your jurisdiction?'

'Yes, I am the sheriff.' Sam tried not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of vampires being organised to that extent, but it sort of made sense. That's how they managed to so quickly distribute True Blood and get used to the Great Revelation. They just brought everything out in the open. For a split second Sam actually admired their ingenuity.

'You know who's taken Dean?'

'A bunch of idiotic new-borns rolled into town a few nights ago. I knew they were trouble. We don't like vampires without masters or pasts. There are vampires who live outside of our communities. They're usually the ones who get themselves killed my hunters, so it would stand to reason they're also the ones who like to take out a little vengeance.' Sam swallowed heavily at the thought of the vengeance the vampires were putting Dean through.

'Is it far?'

'They're hold up in an old barn. New-borns have so little imagination.' Sam couldn't help the tiny smile Eric's almost disappointed tone produced. The vampire looked over to see Sam's reaction and added in a more serious tone, 'You focus on getting your brother. I'll take care of the vampires.'

'Okay... thank you.' Eric locked eyes with him and Sam was pretty sure they would have driven off the road if not for the vampire's supernatural abilities at multitasking.

'You're welcome,' he whispered before turning back to the road and taking a sharp turn onto a dirt path.

The barn lay abandoned on the edge of an overgrown field. They could see flickering lights within and even hear laughter, bottles breaking and music; all the typical sounds of a party. They parked a good way off and approached silently. Sam had his knife out, though it felt woefully inadequate in his hand.

A scream cut through all other noise and Sam's heartbeat went up to battle-mode. That was Dean, and he was in pain. They were almost at the barn door now.

'I'll go around back,' Eric whispered right in Sam's ear. 'Wait until I have them distracted and then get your brother. Get back in the car and drive. Don't look back.' Sam only intended to glance at the vampire in an "are you sure" fashion, but ended up being practically nose-to-nose with the guy. Sam swallowed and Eric smiled. Then he was gone, faster than Sam could blink. He refocused on the door and crept closer, looking through the spaces between the old wood.

Dean was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His jacket was gone and the t-shirt he had been wearing that morning was in tatters. Sam could see bite marks all over his neck and chest. He was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth. The vampires laughed and danced to music coming from an iPod hooked up to speakers.

'I'll kill you sons' of bitches,' Dean growled when one vampire approached, clearly intending to take another drink.

'Sure you will, little hunter,' the vamp laughed. There were four of them as far as Sam could count, though the girl-vamp lay passed out in a pile of hay. Another vamp was leaning over her, kissing her neck. The fourth one was dancing, smiling with a blood-stained mouth. Sam tightened his hold on the knife.

Suddenly, the far wall was kicked through, rousing the sleeping girl and calling everyone's attention. Eric appeared in the man-sized hole. He looked, in a word, terrifying. Sam now knew without a doubt that the vampire had never wanted to kill him because that look was obviously reserved for others.

The vampire by Dean hissed like a cat and sprang at Eric. The two fell backwards out into the night. The others were at first unsure of what to do, but then all three of them jumped out after the pair. Sam made his move.

Dean didn't even notice Sam had arrived until he was cutting the ropes.

'Sam, thank god,' Dean muttered. 'Get me out.'

'Working on it.' The rope broke and Dean got the other arm while Sam did the legs. He helped his brother stand. The blood-loss must have been severe because Dean didn't even pretend he could manage on his own. 'Quick,' he muttered. Sam was worried he was losing consciousness.

They got to the car without trouble and Sam drove off. He glanced in the rear-view mirror more than once, but other than that he didn't look back. It felt wrong, even though it was just vampires. He hoped Eric would be okay. He was clearly old and powerful. He had moved faster than Sam could see. Surely he could handle four baby-vamps? He glanced at Dean when heard a groan.

'I think we need a hospital,' he said.

'No, no, I'm okay,' Dean said. He sounded stronger, but that could be faked.

'You've lost a lot of blood, dude.'

'Nah, not that much. It's just a bunch of cuts, but they aren't deep. They only took a few mouthfuls each.'

'You sure?'

'Yeah,' Dean sighed. 'Just get me some bandages and a drink.' Sam decided he would ignore the last part. 'How did you find me?'

'I didn't...' Sam said.

'Tell me in the morning,' Dean muttered.

XXX

Morning came and went with both of them passed out. Sam had tended Dean's wounds and had been very glad to see that he hadn't suffered too much blood-loss. They had gone the whole night awake, so it was no wonder both of them shut down and slept through the day.

Sam was awakened by a knock on the door. He thought it was probably the receptionist wanting more money. He didn't even realise the time, or perhaps he was too groggy to think clearly. He opened the door wider than he should have.

'Eric,' the name came out in a breath. Sam's mind clicked on. 'You're okay.'

'Yes,' Eric answered. He had that smile on him. Sam blushed at his comment. He sounded idiotic.

'I mean, I'm glad you're okay. Thank you.'

'I'm glad you are okay as well,' Eric replied. Sam's face heated up even more. He hoped Dean was still asleep, but didn't want to turn and look and bring Eric's attention to him. He leaned on the door frame, closing the door a bit so that his body filled up the opening, blocking the room. 'The vampires won't be bothering you again.'

'You killed them?' Sam asked. Eric nodded. Sam wasn't entirely sure how he was suppose to feel about that. He was glad they were dead of course, but it forced him to think of Eric as a killer. A killer of his own kind.

'Despite the Great Revelation,' Eric said quietly, 'these matters are best settled in house, so to speak.'

'Yeah,' Sam agreed.

'Is your brother all right?'

'Yeah, he's...' Sam couldn't help but glance behind him. Dean was sound asleep. His chest was covered in band-aids and bandages for the more serious bites. 'Fine.'

'Then I will leave you.' Eric turned to leave and Sam's stomach did a weird flip, like he had dropped something off a high cliff and realised he wouldn't get it back.

'Wait,' he said. Eric stopped and looked back with a raised eyebrow. Sam floundered. 'I...' Abruptly, Eric stepped closer. So close Sam's eyes went wide and he held his breath. Eric placed one hand on the door frame and then reached for Sam's face with the other. Maybe he was being glamoured, but it didn't really feel like that. It felt like...

Eric's hand cupped his cheek. His eyes were intense, alive and searching. Not dead at all, really. In fact the look was almost sweet. Sam stood still and allowed Eric to lean in.

The kiss was much softer than Sam had anticipated. He had never kissed a vampire, so he didn't really know what to expect, but this wasn't it. His eyes slid shut and he pressed back. Eric tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Sam felt his head reel. This was nice and... tingly. Like when he had first kissed Jess.

'Sam?' a groggy voice sounded from the bed.

In the next moment Sam was staring at the empty night, his lips still half-puckered.

'Sam, what are you doing?'

He shut the door quickly.

'Nothing. Just thought I heard something.' 


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2. __  
><em>  
>'You're telling me a vampire saved us?'<p>

'Saved you,' Sam felt the need to correct for some reason. 'Well, helped me save you.' Dean shook his head. He was propped up in bed, eating a greasy cheeseburger. Sam had insisted on Dean eating before they got in the car again.

'He probably just didn't want to deal with hunters or cops asking around if I turned up dead.'

'He could have easily just let them kill you and make sure they buried you,' Sam argued. He kept his eyes on the TV, even though there was just some stupid reality show on.

'Yeah...' Dean admitted, chewing. 'But he probably figured he'd get a bunch of hunters on the trail eventually.'

'He seemed nice,' Sam murmured before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes the moment he said it, and winced at the instant silence behind him.

'Nice?' Dean said incredulously. 'What, he said _please_ before he tried to suck your blood?' Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, but studiously kept his back to Dean. He bit his lip to stop himself for saying more. It didn't matter what Dean thought about Eric, or vampires in general. They would hit the road soon and Fangtasia would be out of sight and mind. Besides, there was no changing Dean's mind about vampires. Sure, he wouldn't bust up a coven that stayed off human blood, but that didn't mean he was going to have a nice chat with any of them... or approve of Sam kissing one.

Damn, Sam's face heated up just thinking about it. His analytic mind had supplied a long list of reasons why he was affected so much. Eric's vampire charm was at the top, obviously. His fascinating age. His looks... shit, his _look_, with those eyes. Sam shifted on the bed, hoping Dean wasn't paying attention to him.

Then there was his height. The very act of kissing someone on a even footing made Sam feel both in control and out of it. He couldn't stop thinking about pushing Eric back hard against a wall, and then Eric pushing right back. He would be stronger, of course, but Sam was strangely fine with that.

'Dude, are you even listening to me?' Dean's voice suddenly cut through Sam's very inappropriate fantasy.

'Sorry, what?'

'Let's just get out of here.' Dean got up and stretched, clearly trying to cover up his wince. They packed up quick, paid for the extra night, and hit the road. They passed Merlotte's on the way out of town. Sam knew they weren't going to pass through Shreveport. It was late, but neither of them were tired after sleeping through the day. They had already lined up a possible hunt after this one, so Sam knew which direction to take. They listened to music for maybe ten minutes before Sam heard his mouth run away with him again.

'Eric came to check that we were okay.'

'What?' Dean clearly hadn't heard him, so it was a perfect opportunity for Sam to make something else up. Sometimes, though, even Sam could be incredibly stupid.

'Eric, the vampire that saved you, he came by earlier to check that we had gotten back in one piece.' Silence met this statement until Sam had to glance over at Dean, who was giving him the "what the fuck" stare big time.

'Seriously, dude, you're on first name basis with a vamp?' Sam sighed. He knew it had been a stupid idea. It hadn't even been an idea; a stupid impulse if anything.

'Look, I'm just saying-'

'No, you're not saying anything Sam. We're getting the hell out of here and we're staying far away from vamp-counties from now on.' Sam clamped his mouth shut. He didn't want to argue about this. It was pointless. He sped up instead and they drove the rest of the night in silence.

XXX

Sam shouldn't be awake. They had driven all night and checked out leads all day. He should be dead tired. Dean was out cold, but Sam couldn't sleep. They were still in the same state, but they were pretty sure there weren't any vampire haunts around. The town, if Sam's research was correct, had a spirit attacking people in the local hospital. They couldn't do anything more today, but they planned to hit the library tomorrow morning.

Sam should be asleep, yet here he was outside, slowly breathing in the night to calm himself, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why was that kiss still stuck in his head?

He decided to go for a walk to clear his head, get himself tired out. He walked down the rows of motel room doors. The parking lot held only a few cars, and the street beyond was deserted. They were a little way outside the town proper so the place was pretty much surrounded by dense vegetation. Sam turned the corner at the end of the motel and walked behind it. It was darker there without the lights by each door guiding his way, but there was still enough light pollution reflected in the clouds for him to be able to see fairly well into the forest. There was also light from one of the tiny bathroom windows. He couldn't tell if it was their room though, and didn't really think about it.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Sam knew not to doubt his instincts so he stopped dead and glanced around, listening. There was nothing to indicate a danger. There was no strange silence, or ominous footsteps. There was just him standing behind a motel, squinting into the night. He sighed, trying to calm his nerves and his sudden strange excitement.

He turned to walk back the way he came, and almost walked straight into a body. His first instinct was to put up his hands for a fight, but by the time they were raised his brain had managed to catch up and tell him who it was.

'Jesus Christ,' he spat, backing away, hating the way his heart had jumped and was still racing. Eric merely lifted a curious eyebrow at him. 'You scared the shit out of me.'

'Good,' Eric said. Sam tilted his head in confusion. 'You're a good hunter. You knew I was there. Not many do.'

'Thanks... I think.' Sam was suddenly aware of the fact that Eric was there. Right there. He swallowed. 'How'd you get here?'

'You don't think I'm faster than that old car of yours?' Eric asked sarcastically.

'I mean why are you here?' Sam forced himself to ask.

Like before, Eric moved faster than Sam could blink. He pushed Sam up against the wall, pinning his arms down and bringing them chest to chest. Sam hated the fact that he didn't even have the chance to fight back, but he was also mildly disturbed at himself for not being terrified. Not disturbed enough to make his other... reaction go away.

'Why do you want me to be here?' Eric asked, eyes intense and searching. Sam pressed his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as Eric increased the pressure on his chest and arms.

'What are you talking about? Are you using your powers on me?' The question made everything go still and cold. Eric was six feet away from him in a second, leaving him leaning up against the wall alone. Sam stared, hoping he didn't look quite as pathetic as he feared.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Eric stated. 'An excuse, an explanation. You can't stand the possibility that a hunter might actually desire a vampire.' Sam looked away, unable to stand that knowing look, or the all too true words.

'You're glamouring me,' Sam said, but it sounded weak even to his ears.

'You're too good a hunter for that,' Eric said. He was moving closer again, very slowly, as if afraid to startle a wild animal. 'Why do you want me to be here, Sam?'

'I don't. You came here. Why are you here?' Sam forced his eyes back on the vamp. Eric was smiling.

'I'm here because you want me to be. Why?'

'Are you reading my mind?'

'I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you really want.' He was close again, but he wasn't touching, not yet. Sam had kept completely still all the while, as if Eric still had a hold of his arms. He should move, walk away, but he wasn't doing anything. 'Tell me.'

'What do _you_ want?' Sam shot back, annoyed at the knowing looks. He wasn't used to being one-upped in a conversation. Fights he could stand to lose - sometimes the things they were fighting were just too strong - but he liked to think of himself as the smart brother. He was used to winning arguments and being able to out-wit people. Eric was confusing him with his mere presence.

Eric leaned in close, his lips a breath away and Sam's own breath stilled completely.

'You.'

And they were kissing again, only it didn't start out soft and sweet like before. It was painful. This was how vampires kiss, Sam thought, as he kissed back as hard as he could. Had he been a vampire himself he was sure it would have been closer to fighting that kissing.

He grabbed Eric's head and felt slightly better. It felt like he had some control. Eric wrapped his arms around Sam, allowing the human to set the pace. Eric's hair was soft and Sam devoured the vamp's lips as if he was the one with some supernatural thirst.

God, it felt good. Sam didn't think he'd tasted anything better. There was the sting of blood on occasion, and Sam didn't want to think about whether it was True Blood or real blood. One thing he did want to think about, strangely enough, was all the people Eric had kissed before him. How old was he exactly? Had he had time to kiss a hundred people? A thousand? The thought shuddered through Sam. He felt like a boy kissing someone older, desperate to not make a stupid mistake. His stomach was doing silly summersaults for Christ's sake.

Eric growled and pressed them harder into the wall, grinding against Sam.

'Fuck,' Sam managed to breathe when he had to pull away to gasp for air for a moment. Eric didn't need to breathe, though, and kissed his way across Sam's jaw to his ear and then downwards.

Sam tensed- he couldn't help it. Eric kissed his neck as any human would, though not many people had kissed Sam's neck like that. He loved it when people did, though, maybe because it wasn't something he got often.

The big question was, did he tense out of fear... or anticipation?

Eric licked a stripe right across his neck and Sam couldn't help the low moan that escaped. Eric must have taken that as some sort of permission, because in the next moment he had breached Sam's skin.

Instead of the instant pain and feeling of being viciously drained of life, Sam's world tunneled to the sensation of being devoured, but not in an unappealing way. It was like being cherished and consumed; being taken care of and used at the same time. Being kept alive yet being, essentially, drained. It was a paradox of sensations, but it all added up to his conscious mind melting away.

He barely noticed still grinding hard against Eric through it all. He couldn't ignore his sudden release, though, when Eric gave one last lick across the wound, closing it up. Sam cried out, the sound tapering off to a whimper as he was spent. The vampire pressed his forehead against Sam's shoulder, holding them still as everything came to a halt.

Sam swallowed several times, working his throat as if expecting something to be wrong with it. He blinked, clearing his vision. His mind was the last thing to switch itself back on.

What the hell had he just done? Kissing was one thing, but allowing- no, _enjoying_ it. He instinctively pushed against Eric, who stepped away immediately. His face was inscrutable. Sam tried to calm his quickly re-quickening heart, but the more he tried to calm himself, the less calm he became.

'You-...' He didn't know what he was going to accuse the vampire of. He had allowed it, he had wanted it, and they both knew it. They stared at one another.

'Don't worry,' Eric said. 'I will always be able to find you now.' Before Sam could protest, or get even more angry, Eric was gone. The night was quiet except for Sam's labored breathing. He stared out into the darkness, willing back the last few moments of his life desperately... and also wishing for Eric to return.

The only reason he eventually moved was because he felt cold, and a little wet in uncomfortable places. He walked back to the motel room in a daze.

His last thought before he hit the pillow was his brother's angry face if he ever found out his brother had just become a fangbanger.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I realised I'm not going to get this pairing out of my head any time soon. So this story is just something I'm going to play with when I'm not thinking about God's Permission. I'm not gonna bother with a beta cause like I said, this is just me playing around. I don't want to spend lots of time editing.

-:-

_Chapter 3 _

'Dean!' Sam only managed to shout his brother's name before he was tackled from the side with what felt like the force of a linebacker.

He twisted towards it as he fell, and pushed against the creature. Using the momentum of his fall, he managed to flip the creature over him. It went right through the thin wall of the probably hundred-year-old shack.

They had figured it was a waheela, but they hadn't considered a mating pair. The bipedal bear creatures with wolf-like heads were farther south than their usual territories, but they could still rip your throat out.

Sam pushed himself up and looked out the hole. The waheela was gone. Sam didn't have time to jump out and chase it down. He got up and went after Dean instead. The small shack consisted of only two rooms so when Sam burst through the door he expected to find his brother.

He found a dead waheela, face down on the floor. It was covered in thick fur, full of dirt, twigs and blood. Without the snout in view it looked almost like Bigfoot.

'Dean!' Sam cried. He took two long steps to the small window, which was broken. Outside the forest lay still, the tall trees menacing-looking. They were far from the road. It was still dark, but sunrise couldn't be far off.

'Ugh,' a groan sounded, from within the room. Sam spun around.

'Dean?' Another groan and Sam realised it was coming from the floor. He also realised he had dropped his gun when the other waheela tackled him. He still had his knife, though. The creatures could be wounded with silver bullets, but unlike werewolves they needed to be beheaded to stay dead. Sam approached cautiously.

'Sam.'

He stopped short. The creature started to stir. It rolled over slowly, but too stiffly to be natural, revealing his stupid brother gasping for breath underneath. The waheela had three bullet holes in its skull, which would take it quite some time to heal.

'Dean,' Sam put his knife away and helped his brother up. 'You okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Dean shook off the help. 'Where's the other one?'

'I don't know. It fell through the wall, but it's gone now.'

'Damn. Okay, let's cut this sucker's head off quick and then head out.' Sam nodded and retrieved his gun quickly while Dean did the dirty work. They would drag it out into the forest and let the non-supernatural animals digest it later.

Outside the forest seemed to watch them. There was little underbrush so they could see quite far in all directions. They circled the shack, looking for clues.

'Over here,' Dean said. They were right outside the hole. He indicated blood on a tree. They followed the trail silently, keeping watch. It was getting lighter by the minute, though they had started the hunt around midnight, when the creatures were usually active.

They descended a fairly steep hill and pushed through some smaller trees. Sam could hear a stream nearby. That was were they found it.

It looked more like something had ripped its head off than cut it. They checked the body and found no other wounds. Its claws were bloody, though, and not from the Winchesters.

'What the hell, man?' Dean said, standing and giving the creature a little kick of frustration. He looked around them. They could see broken branches and blood splatter everywhere. There had definitely been a struggle, but with what? 'What the hell can kill a waheela out here?'

'Another waheela?' Sam suggested.

'Then why isn't it here snacking on his friend or us?'

'I don't know,' Sam sighed. The sun was coming up any second and he felt... off. Like something was creeping up behind him, but it wasn't in this forest. 'Let's just get the hell out of here.'

'If there's something strong enough to kill a fucking wolf-bear out here then we need to catch it.'

They circled around the sight, but the trail went cold almost immediately. They couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't as if they could take blood samples. They decided leave the creature in the forest and return the next night to keep watch. It had probably run off because the sun was coming up. Waheelas liked to stay underground during the day. Maybe it was wounded and hadn't been able to drag it back. Hell, maybe there was a whole pack of them out there, or two groups fighting. Sam didn't want to think about the damage the creatures could do if they decided to keep snacking on the local town. Nothing they had observed so far indicated more than a pair at most, however... so what was this thing?

It was pointless to speculate anymore, and there was no trail, so they left.

They went back to town and ate a very late breakfast at the local family bar and restaurant. Afterwards they crashed at the motel and slept for hours.

Sam woke up slowly, which in itself was unusual. He didn't get much sleep these days. Between hunting, researching ways to save Dean from the deal, and constantly thinking about his fangbang mistake, he didn't think he wanted to sleep. What kinds of dreams would that shit-storm create?

It was late in the day, and they were both hungry again so they headed back to the same restaurant. Sam found he had no appetite when his salad was put in front of him. He couldn't look at Dean and his cheeseburger. He felt ill, like his skin was stretched too tight, like he was waiting for something.

'You okay?' Dean asked, his mouth full.

'Yeah.'

'You get some sleep?' Dean knew how little Sam slept. Hell, Dean didn't sleep much himself. The deal was due in two months. It always hung over them, but for the last month something else had been creating tension. Sam knew what it was – he felt those phantom lips over his pulse point every time his heart raced. He knew Dean didn't know what was creating the tension, but he wasn't asking either. Perhaps he knew enough to dread the answer? Sam didn't want to think about that possibility.

Before nightfall they went back to the forest and camped out. They found the dead creature exactly where they had left it. They stayed there over three hours before both of them decided without actually saying it, that they were tired, bored and unlikely to find whatever it was that had ripped off the creatures head. They'd stay in town another day in case another dead camper turned up.

They headed back and watched TV. Neither of them were following a normal sleeping routine, but Sam had expected Dean to nod off eventually. It was close to four in the morning before Sam finally gave up. Dean had found some crappy horror flick and was settling in for the long haul. Not unusual, considering they had slept during the day, but Sam was feeling itchy and restless. He knew exactly why, but he couldn't allow himself to think about it.

'I'm going out,' he announced. Dean spared him a glance as he shrugged on his jacket.

'You know there might be a killer out there, right?' he asked as if Sam was three and needed to be told not to stick his hand on the stove. They both knew whatever it had been was long gone, or at least Sam knew that's what Dean had to assume... he had another theory.

'Yeah, I'll just be outside. I need air.' He didn't wait for Dean's reply.

Outside the night was humid, like it was going to rain any minute. He still breathed it in, closing his eyes and trying to will his mind and body to just stop thinking for half a second.

It wasn't working.

'Are you there?' he asked. The question was like a release. He allowed himself to think, to picture Eric in his mind, battling the waheela and ripping its head off with his bare hands.

'Yes.' Sam looked around him, not sure exactly where the voice had come from. He spotted the eyes first, almost cat-like in the night. Eric was leaning against the Impala, as if he had been waiting ages for Sam to arrive, even though Sam was pretty sure the vampire hadn't been there a second ago. The hunter breathed out in a huff, trying to calm his nerves. He gestured sharply with his head to the corner of the motel. It would seem their preferred meeting place would be behind motels from now on- not that Sam was thinking about having a lot more of these.

Eric followed him at a human's pace, which Sam thought was either a gesture of civility, or perhaps an attempt to calm Sam. He knew Eric could probably hear his heartbeat anyway.

The knowledge made it beat even faster.

Once behind the motel Sam turned to face the vampire. The tall nordic wore the same black tank-top that seemed to be his preferred uniform, but with a black leather jacket in a cut that Dean would not have been caught dead in. It looked good on Eric, though.

'You killed it?' Sam asked tightly, forcing his eyes away from Eric.

'Yes.'

'Why? What are you doing here?' _Where the fuck have you been for the last month? _Sam wanted to scream, but he didn't. He wouldn't admit he was that pathetic even to himself.

'I always know when you're in trouble. Even for a hunter, you are often in trouble...' Eric moved, taking a few steps to the side and presenting his profile to Sam while staring off into the night. 'It was sheer luck that I decided to visit you this week. I don't often leave my club or jurisdiction. The fact that you needed my help was a coincidence.'

'I didn't need your help,' Sam growled. Eric smiled slightly, a smug smile. 'Why are you _visiting _me?'

'You want me to.'

'Dude, just stop this,' Sam all but begged. He sighed and closed his eyes, gathering himself. 'I _don't-' _But that was a lie, wasn't it? Sam swallowed several times, frowning heavily. Something was drawing him to Eric and it wasn't glamour-powers. It wasn't about being a fangbanger either. It was just Eric. God, he wanted to ask so many questions. He wanted to pick the man's brain, and yeah, maybe get another kiss. He wanted to- what? Go out on a date? He huffed a laugh at the thought.

'What's so amusing?' Sam looked up and found Eric right in front of him. He resisted the urge to either take a step back, or forwards.

'This, us,' he said, shaking his head. 'What am I doing?' He didn't expect Eric to answer. Sam took the opportunity to study the vampire. Eric returned the stare with a blank stare, but Sam was pretty good at reading people. Eric wanted him too, and was just waiting for permission to pounce. This puzzled Sam.

'You saved me,' he said. 'You came all this way, but you don't want to kill me, drain me... so, what _do you want?_'

'The same as you,' Eric replied immediately. Sam felt a surge of emotion. He leaned in and Eric responded so quick it felt like he had been the one to initiate the kiss. They were kissing. Not quite as hard as last time. It felt almost like a normal make-out. As normal as it could get with a vampire.

It felt, if possible, even better than last time. Sam had time to explore, and be on a level footing with Eric. Christ, he would never get enough of kissing someone his own height. Eric's arms came around him and Sam raised his hands to cup the vampire's face.

His face was cold, which was expected, but it still made Sam shiver, in a good way. Eric must have felt it, for he tightened his grip. They broke apart for a moment, still close enough to share breath. Eric seemed to be breathing heavily despite being undead. Sam enjoyed that fact far too much than could be healthy.

'Let me taste you,' Eric suddenly asked. Sam's eyes widened, but the "no" he was suppose to answer got stuck in his throat. He wanted it. Shit, he couldn't deny it.

'Okay,' he whispered. Eric surged forward and the bite was much harder than the last, causing Sam to grunt. It shook Sam to the core for half a second, but the sting didn't hurt for long, however.

The sensations came back, flooding through all his nerves even as his blood flowed into Eric. He only took two mouthfuls at most, thankfully. He must be really old, and really strong. After he had closed the wound he kissed his way up Sam's neck slowly, and along his jaw, sealing their lips together again.

They kissed languidly for a long time before Sam pushed Eric away enough to he could speak.

'Stop,' he whispered. The night clung around them. It would rain at any moment, he was sure. Dean was probably going to come looking for him at any moment. He wanted to ask something that had been on his mind ever since Fangtasia.

'Why?' Eric asked, trying to lean in for another kiss. Sam held him back and even though the vampire could just ignore it, he didn't. 'What is it?'

'I want to talk,' Sam said.

'Talk?' Eric repeated like the word was foreign to him. Sam rolled his eyes.

'Yes, talk.'

'About what?'

Sam took a deep breath before answering.

'Demons.' Eric pulled back, but not preternaturally fast. He studied Sam with a very serious expression.

'I don't associate with hellspawn,' he said slowly so as to make it absolutely clear. Sam swallowed past his nervousness. He didn't want to piss Eric off, or worse, scare him away.

'Okay, I mean, that's good,' Sam said, trying not to offend. 'But someone as old as you has got to know a few things, surely?' Eric tilted his head, regarding Sam impassively. Unconsciously, Sam was using the same helpless-puppy-look he often gave Dean when desperate for something.

'I may have a few associates who aren't as... strict in who they associate with.' Sam almost rolled his eyes at Eric's vague answer, but kept himself in check.

'I need to know about crossroad demons. Dean... Dean made a deal and it's due in two months. I _have _to stop it.'

'Hmmm,' Eric hummed non-committally. He stepped back and leaned agains the motel wall, slouched and casual. Sam tried not to fidget, but it was hard. He hated it when Dean did that: act all causal when the situation was serious. 'I assume he didn't ask for fame or money, as is usually the case.'

'No, he,' Sam looked away, 'he saved me.'

'Then I am very grateful to him,' Eric murmured. Sam's eyes snapped back to him, but the vampire was looking off into the night. 'I have contacts who can find the holder of this deal,' he announced. Sam almost sagged with relief. 'But I will not get involved in anything. If I am suspected even for a moment then I can not help you, and there is little chance this information can be got without suspicion.'

'I understand,' Sam said. 'But you'll try?'

'Yes...' Eric trailed off, looking Sam up and down like he wanted to- well, like he wanted to eat him. 'I'll go right now, but not without a goodbye kiss.'

'Okay.' Even Eric seemed surprised by Sam's immediate answer. He gathered himself more quickly than a human could, and approached Sam slowly, drawing out the inevitable. Sam almost thought Eric was teasing him. Or perhaps he was teasing himself. Sam revelled in the fact that they leaned in at the same time, neither of them having to stoop. He tilted his head and his eyes fell shut before Eric's lips met his.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stop this. It terrified him, but Eric seemed to know intuitively that Sam was moments away from freaking out. And he was, in fact, he was sure he would already be freaking out if not for the kiss.

It was tingly and sweet and Sam almost wished Eric had bit him instead. Maybe then his brain would freak out, which was the proper thing to do when you realise your in deep with a vampire. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Eric wouldn't let him. Sam gave in and accepted the tingling sweetness. He knew he was too far gone.

He didn't realise he was alone until he felt a sudden puff of air where Eric's lips had been, and he was staring into the empty night.

Damn that vampire. He did that on purpose.


	4. Chapter 4

Supernatural Blood.

Note to readers: The last few weeks I have been stunned by the amount of comments this fic has been getting. I always thought I was kinda weird to like this pairing, but I'm very glad I'm not alone. I'm also very glad that I tried writing this. Thank you for your encouragement! Despite the amount of comments, I will still be sticking to my original plan of not bothering with a beta. You're welcome to point out typos, but in-depth criticism isn't really necessary (though general criticism of my writing skills is of course always a bonus even if I don't use your comments on this story). I want to keep this story "light and fun" meaning I only want to write when I feel the urge.

Note on canon: I will be ignoring a lot of canon from both series, but I think you'll be able to infer the necessary information from the story itself, so I won't bother going into detail here. No spoilers for True Blood and no spoilers for Supernatural beyond season 5 cause I haven't seen it! :)

Another note (sorry): I always like the idea of Eric being very Scandinavian in outlook and style. Though Fangtasia doesn't fit into this, I like to think this is because Eric is just giving people what the expect. So in my mind he's a little more sophisticated if left to his own devices (not that all Scandinavian style is sophisticated, but modern Scandinavian is certainly tied to modernity and crispness). Don't know why I included this. I just really want to discuss True Blood I guess.

-:-

_Chapter 4._

'This is a dream,' Sam said. He knew this without a doubt because the room looked much fancier than he was used to, and weird. He was on a low king-size bed, leaning back on his hands.

'Yes,' Eric agreed. He was circling the bed, slowly. The bed and decor were minimalistic, almost industrial, but very luxurious and modern. A world completely alien to Sam, in other words. The bed stood in the middle of a wide hardwood floor. There was a funky looking fireplace to the right, with red sofas around. To the left where high windows with light streaming in, but they were glazed so Sam couldn't see anything beyond.

'Where am I?'

'It's your dream,' Eric said with a slight shrug.

'This doesn't look like something my mind would come up with,' Sam commented, looking around. His attention was soon on Eric, however, as the vampire kneeled on the bed. Sam resisted the urge to scoot away. He stayed perfectly still as Eric crawled towards him, very slowly. The vampire's eyes were deadly serious.

'Is it really you?' Sam asked. Eric tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. He had reached Sam's feet, but there was still a long way to go. As he approached, Sam's heartbeat sped up.

'Does that matter?'

'Well, yeah...' Sam trailed off as Eric crawled over his knees. He lay down when the vampire came too close, but regretted that instantly as Eric could now hover over him. 'Can vampires do that? Visit people's dreams?' _Like demons, _he added in his mind.

'Are your dreams normally this... cerebral?' Eric asked. He leaned down and ghosted his lips across Sam's jaw. 'You think too much.'

'Can you read my mind?' Sam almost couldn't focus on his own words. He tried to lie still, but Eric was teasing him. He would not give the vampire the satisfaction of him giving in, however, and so waited for Eric to claim the first kiss.

'I see it in your frown,' Eric whispered. 'You have a beautiful face; you shouldn't frown so much.' A proper kiss almost on Sam's left ear. Sam swallowed and he knew Eric's attention was immediately on his neck, but the vampire only paused for a moment in his ministrations. He kissed his way away from Sam's neck to his mouth.

When the teasing was finally over Sam groaned into the kiss, opening his mouth immediately and sucking in Eric's tongue. He wanted to drown in Eric. He reached up to pull the vampire more firmly on top of him. Eric obliged. They fit together perfectly.

Had Eric been human Sam was sure they would have been almost perfectly matched in strength as well. As it was, he felt strangely touched that Eric was obviously restraining himself, letting Sam take and pull and push as well. He let Sam roll them over. In fact, he seemed to relish it.

Sam started tugging on the black tank top. He wanted to feel the ice-cold skin, and maybe help warm it up. In here his guilt didn't matter. In here he wasn't a freak fangbanger, lying to his brother every day. In here it was just them.

'I really hope it is you,' he growled between hard kisses. His legs were between Eric's, and they pushed and rutted against each other. Sam wasn't one to shy away from a little roughness in the bedroom. He enjoyed it even more with the knowledge that he couldn't possibly hurt the vampire.

Eric decided to speed things up by simply ripping the top, and then Sam's shirt. He rolled them over again, and Sam went with it. 'Fuck, bite me,' he breathed. He wanted their jeans off desperately, but he would settle for this. In fact he didn't care anymore. 'Bite me,' he all but begged.

'No,' Eric replied. Sam blinked and pushed at Eric's shoulders so he could look him in the eyes.

'What?'

'There is time for that later. I will not give you an excuse.'

'What are you talking about? This is my dream, Eric, remember?' Sam tried to sound reasonable, but even as he spoke he knew the truth of Eric's words. He wanted the pain/pleasure to bring delirium so he could excuse their actions, even as he told himself he just the delirium for itself. Or did he? It was confusing. He couldn't say with absolute certainty what he truly wanted. By now his face was heavy with frown lines. Why was Eric the voice of reason?

'I'll eat you out, if you'll settle for that,' Eric said with an evil grin. Sam gaped and was sure he blushed. How was that fair? Blushing in your own dream. Eric decided to carry on and kissed his way down Sam's chest.

'Sam?'

'Yeah?' He looked down at Eric who was opening the zipper with his teeth. The vampire looked up.

'I'm afraid that wasn't me,' he said. Sam was about to ask what he meant when his whole world was shaken so hard it blurred.

Then he was back in a moldy motel-room with his brother shaking him awake.

'Dude, I can't listen to your sex-dream anymore. It's freaking me out, and we need to head out anyway,' Dean grouched. He didn't waste time with Sam's reply and headed straight for the bathroom, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

Sam stared after the door for a few seconds before relaxing into the bed again with a muttered 'fuck.'

_A few days later... _

The crunch of gravel was made as a courtesy. Sam knew Eric didn't need to make noise. He only did it because he didn't want to startle Sam. For some reason, though, it annoyed him.

'I knew you were there,' he huffed.

'You'll always know when I'm near,' Eric answered, his voice easy and unapologetic. 'Even for a hunter, you have an almost supernatural sixth sense.' Sam tensed at the word supernatural. Eric stopped by the wooden table Sam was sitting on, feet on the bench and elbows on his knees.

The night was still and cool around them apart from a dog barking far off. Sam ignored Eric as much as he could, staring at the ground.

'Where's Dean?'

'With some chick,' Sam said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Why should he tell Eric? He didn't want to share his problems with Eric, especially after last time. If there had been a last time; he wasn't entirely sure. He had been so... wanton. It had scared him a little. Yet, his mouth carried on. 'He's said he was going to sin enough to actually get sent to hell,' he snorted.

'My efforts so far have yielded no useful information,' Eric informed him. A truck passed on the road. Its headlights revealed the emptiness of the parking lot, the dreary motel and two lone figures. Sam closed his eyes as the light passed over them. When the truck was gone the small naked lightbulbs above each motel-room door seemed very inadequate.

'Then why are you here?' Sam asked. _Did you come to finish what you started in my dream? _

'To see you,' Eric answered as if it was obvious, which it was, actually. Sam looked up at last. Eric stepped in front of him. 'You want me here.'

'Excuse me?' Sam sat up straiter, leaning a little away from Eric. 'That's...' He shook his head, focusing on the ground again. 'No.' Without the promise of a dream, all his guilt and disgust was in full force. He should have known he would wake up to regret it all. He suspected he would give in eventually, though, as he always seemed to do. Was it weakness? Probably. Dean would be so fucking disgusted.

'Moping around like a scolded schoolboy while you're brother's out fucking some slut is hardly productive,' Eric said calmly. It struck the desired nerve. Sam felt himself stand before he had even thought to do it. They stood toe-to-toe and even though Sam knew that this was probably exactly what Eric wanted, he couldn't help himself. Besides, maybe he could switch the tables a little. Swallowing down the anger, Sam tilted his head slightly and asked softly:

'You have any better ideas?' Eric's eyes lit up with surprise for half a second before a feral look overcame him. Sam shivered at it.

'Well,' Eric said, still keeping his voice casual even though they were only inches away from each other. 'You do have an empty room that could be put to some use.' Sam hesitated at that. Outside, during the previous times, there had always been an urgency. In the dream there had been the excuse of fantasy.

'Why do you keep coming here?' Sam asked, desperate for a clear answer. 'Why help us? Why me?'

'You know why. I want you, you want me. It's all very delicious.' Eric tried to distract him by moving in closer, but Sam stepped back.

'Is it my blood?' The thought hadn't even occurred to him, but -Jesus!- it should have! Was it the demon blood that somehow appealed to Eric? Did he know, could he taste it? Sam hadn't even told Dean about what the Yellow-eyed demon had done to him as a child. If Eric knew-

'I didn't save your brother because of your blood. I didn't come back to check on you because of your blood,' Eric spoke quickly, stepping forward and staring Sam straight in the eyes. 'I didn't kiss you because of your blood.' Sam swallowed and saw Eric's eyes flick to his neck. It made him shiver so bad he had to close his eyes to compose himself. He was out of control, he knew it, but Eric always held back, let him have a little control. Why? To screw with him obviously. But in the dream it had almost seemed like he cared... But that had been a dream, right?

'I won't deny your blood tastes differently, however.' Sam's eyes snapped open. Eric moved away. He gazed down the road, wetting his lips.

'How?' Sam dreaded the answer. He shifted nervously.

'You're not surprised,' Eric noted. Sam didn't bother to answer. They both knew. 'You have demon blood in you.' Sam winced and looked away. Seeing it happening to himself as a baby hadn't felt real- he couldn't exactly relate to the body of a baby- but hearing it confirmed, from someone who had tasted him. It felt like a death sentence.

'Normally,' Eric continued, 'I detest demon blood, though I have only tasted it once before. It's tainted, sulfuric, dead. Quite disgusting. Yours, however...' Eric turned back to face Sam, who was immediately caught in the vampiric gaze. 'Tastes of strength, defiance, purity despite the infection. Your blood his powerful, unique. It draws me in... it scares me...' Sam was surprised the vampire would admit such a thing, but Eric seemed too serious to worry about embarrassment. Or perhaps vampires didn't get embarrassed.

'How does it scare you?' He didn't want to ask, but he knew he had to.

'Because it draws me away from you.' Sam frowned at the strange response. Suddenly, Eric surged forward, reaching out to cup Sam's face, the grip tight, but not enough to be painful. Sam couldn't mask his shock, but didn't struggle. Then Eric leaned in for a bruising kiss.

After a moment trying to decipher the kiss, Sam gave up and kissed back.

'Let's go inside,' Eric whispered when they broke apart. Sam could only nod. He really hoped Dean didn't strike out tonight of all nights.

Sam almost wished for the strange room in his dream. He knew Dean would say he was girly and pathetic, but you'd have to be pretty damn sleazy to actually want to have sex in one of these rooms. Eric didn't seem to mind. His supernatural focus and intensity was arousing. Sam shrugged off his jacket and then pulled his shirt over his head without bothering with the buttons. Eric watched, then slowly did the same with his top. Sam pulled off his sneakers and socks. By the time he looked up they only had their jeans left. Both paused, however, and seemed to consider.

Only a foot separated them, yet Sam felt as if Eric was standing at the bottom of a great pit. Either Sam could take a step and fall, willingly, or Eric could climb out and drag him in. In the end, they seemed to meet in the middle. At first they were fighting. Hunter against prey? Sam didn't care. Both were biting, never breaking skin, scratching, squeezing and certainly bruising.

Sam was the one who hit the bed first. For a moment he was back in the dream with Eric hovering above him. If Dean interrupted them this time! But there was no time to think about that.

Eric retreated quickly, almost preternaturally fast, and practically yanked Sam's jeans off. As Eric pushed his own down, Sam quickly got out of his last piece of clothing.

Eric was on him before the pants hit the motel-room floor.

A cold blanket of flesh, but Sam wasn't as freaked out as he knew he should be. The equal size, the strength, the fact that their feet could tangle and their lips could meet at the same time; everything set his nerves on fire, both the big sensations and the details. Eric seemed to be full of details. The way he was intent on devouring Sam, yet always holding off, biting only to tease, never to break the skin. Sam wanted to cry out 'bite me already!' but he held back too. He remembered the dream. No excuses, no delirium that couldn't be shared completely and at full faculties.

He wasn't sure this wasn't some sort of delirium as well, though.

Eric's cock was the biggest surprise. Sam's nerd brain had luckily taken the night off, but he wondered at the small amount of heat still residing in the flesh there.

Eric kept up with steady long thrusts, deep kisses and his hands everywhere at once. He certainly wasn't holding back on his speed.

'Fuck, I need-' Sam panted, head thrown back. Eric's eyed the exposed throat, but turned his head away sharply, giving a hard thrust instead.

'Do you want me to fuck you?' Eric whispered harshly in his ear. 'Or do you want me instead? How long has it been since you've been with a man?' The question spurred Sam into instant action. He grabbed Eric's waist and rolled them over, almost off the bed. He straddled Eric's thighs and helped the Eric up so he was leaning against the headboard. Their lips met again, and Sam reached between them to take both their members in hand.

He was pretty sure he had just found his favourite position, so far, with Eric. Usually when in such a position he would have to slouch so much his back and neck would hurt. Now he needed only to bend his head a little, like normal people did, and be able to kiss and jerk off together.

When Eric gave a helping hand, neither of them lasted long. Their lips were still glued together as they came.

'That was good,' Eric said conversationally when Sam finally broke the kiss and let his head fall to Eric's shoulder. Sam laughed softly. 'I assume we're building up to the fucking?' Sam snorted and rolled off, feeling too sated to bother with guilt or disgust, or whatever else he was suppose to be feeling after fangbanging.

'You should go,' he said after his breathing had evened out. 'Dean doesn't usually stay the night with whoever he fucks.' Eric got up and began dressing. Sam wondered why they weren't more awkward. Maybe vampires didn't bother with awkwardness after centuries of fucking.

'I will come back when I have some information for you,' Eric said. Sam lifted his head at that.

'When will that be?' He was sure he saw Eric smirk, but the vampire bent to put on his boots.

'Don't worry, I won't stay away too long.'

'Okay...' Eric was dressed and ready to go. Sam felt naked and pulled half the duvet over him. Eric looked suddenly serious.

'Remember what I said.'

'About what?'

'About your blood.' Sam swallowed. He didn't want to think about that.

'It's infected. It always will be, but it still tastes of your own power. Don't let the infection consume you.' Sam opened his mouth to question, but Eric disappeared. Well, this time Sam could see the door slam open, but Eric was too fast to really see. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

He hoped he wouldn't dream that night.


	5. Chapter 5

_Note: _Just a quick chapter before I leave on a little vacation. A lot happens in this chapter despite this. We move quite a bit forward and there are a lot of spoilers for the season 3 finale. I guess since this is a "fun" story I don't want to take the time to spell things out quite so much. Hope you like it regardless.

-:-

_Chapter 5. _

'Damn it,' Sam muttered as he threw yet another obscure tome aside. Dean glanced at him, but quickly returned his gaze to his own book. Ever since Dean had agreed to actually try to save himself, they had been meeting dead ends. Sam was frustrated, Dean was slowly freaking out as his due date came closer, and Eric hadn't been in contact. They had seven days left. Sam wanted to contact Ruby instead, though he trusted Eric about 99% more than the demon bitch. And wasn't that just hilarious? He trusted a vampire. Hell, he did a lot more than trust the blood-sucker, though he didn't want to think too much about that.

He almost spoke up and told Dean he was going to summon Ruby with or without his permission, when his phone rang. Dean looked up as Sam fumbled with the phone. The caller-id read "E.N." Sam's heart leapt in his throat.

'I'll take this outside,' he mumbled, rising quickly before Eric hung up. Dean frowned, but didn't say anything.

They were squatting in a dilapidated old house pretty far from the nearest town. It was a big old farmhouse with a wide porch. Sam didn't want to risk breaking any boards with his pacing, though, so he hurried down the steps and onto the gravel driveway.

'Eric?'

'Sam.' The hunter almost sagged in relief at hearing the vampire's voice. He checked behind him, just in case Dean was listening; the windows were empty. He still walked further away from the house, past the Impala and a little down the long driveway.

'Where have you been?' he asked urgently.

'I assume you're not keeping up with vampire news?' That was putting it mildly. Apart from the fact that they had bigger fish to fry than vampires, Dean absolutely refused to watch TV whenever a vampire story appeared.

'What's happened?'

'It's a long story. One I have come to realise is unimportant in the grand scheme of things.' Eric sounded sad and almost apologetic. Sam wanted to say something comforting, but how do you comfort a vampire? The line fell silent as he tried to think of something to say.

'Are you okay?' he finally asked.

'I'm fine. You needn't worry. I am afraid that once I give you this information I will be disappearing for some time.'

'Why? Are you in trouble?' He heard Eric give a soft laugh.

'I have made enough enemies to last longer than even my life-time, but I will be fine. I have weathered worse storms. I am far more worried about what you will do with this information.' Sam shifted on his feet. He glanced behind him, seeing the house off in the distance. He turned away.

'Tell me.'

'Lilith.'

'The demon?'

'I'm not surprised you've heard of her. They say she's after you.'

'Yeah, I know. She's tried a few times already. What do you know about her?'

'She holds your brother's contract.'

'Are you sure?' Sam felt his hands shaking. He resisted the urge to do something stupid, like punch a tree.

'Yes, trust me, with what I have risked, this information is genuine... Don't do it, Sam.'

'Do what?'

'Don't go after her. You must see that's what she wants.'

'You got any other ideas? Cause we're fresh out and we've been looking for a year. Killing the demon that holds the contract is the only plan that looks even close to succeeding.' Sam forced himself to quiet his voice in case Dean decided to come out looking for him.

'There is one other option.'

'Yeah, what's that?' For a brief moment Sam hoped Eric had something, but he knew by the sound of Eric's voice what was coming.

'Stay away from her. Your brother is dead on his feet, but you can still live.' Sam shook his head, gazing up at the sky in frustration.

'I can't. I can't sit here and do nothing.' He waited for Eric to argue, but there was only silence. 'Eric?'

'I can't help you.' _I can't reach you_, was what Sam heard. He realised Eric was actually worried about him. For some reason that scared him.

'Thanks for the info, Eric. I gotta go. I'll... I'll call you in a week.' He hung up before Eric could answer. He walked back to the house quickly.

Dean was still at the desk pretending to read. When Sam flopped down on the couch, he gave him that "you better start talking"-look.

'I know who holds your contract.' Sam didn't need to look at his brother to know Dean's eyebrows were reaching for his hairline.

'So you were just waiting for a phone call?'

'It's Lilith.' That stopped Dean cold. He frowned heavily, getting up and coming around the desk. He sat down opposite Sam in a chair barely held together by the dust covering it.

'Who the hell were you talking to?' he asked, oddly calm despite the swearing. Sam finally met his gaze, but had to look away again. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie to his brother's face.

'Ruby,' he said. The name came out without him really thinking it through. He knew why he had to keep Eric a secret. Dean was already pissed he'd kept Ruby a secret; if he knew Sam was hanging out with vampires as well as demons? God, he'd never hear the end of it.

'Jesus, Sam, I told you we don't need that bitch's help.'

'She found out, she called, and now we know.'

'And you believe her?' Now Sam looked Dean straight in the eye.

'Yes.' Dean snorted. Sam pushed himself out of his slouch and leaned forward. He had to be convincing for this. The ironic thing, or sad thing perhaps, was that Dean was even less likely to believe the information was legit if Sam told the truth. Strange as it was, Dean was more likely to believe Ruby than some vampire he probably barely remembered. 'It makes sense, though, doesn't it? Lilith seems to be the big honcho now. It seems likely she'd be the one to hold the crossroad contracts. Besides, maybe that's why she's after me. She wants us both on a platter, in hell.' Dean shook his head, but Sam could tell his brother was annoyed he was making sense.

'Or Ruby could be feeding you bullshit to get you to walk straight into Lilith's hands.'

'Ruby saved us from Lilith. She was prepared to die to help us out last time. She wants Lilith dead.' _And Eric wouldn't have told me unless he was certain. _

'She's a demon, Sam. We don't know what the hell she really wants.' Sam signed and rubbed his face in frustration.

'I swear to you, Dean, this is the real deal.' Dean looked at him oddly and Sam regretted putting it like that.

'What makes you so sure?'

'I just know.' Dean shook his head again. 'It's the only lead we have, Dean. Besides, we should be going after Lilith. She needs to be stopped.' Dean got up and started pacing. If Sam knew his brother, that was a sign he was about to cave in.

'So what's the plan?' Dean asked. 'We have no Colt, we don't know where the bitch is, and we could be walking into a trap.'

'We'll figure it out.'

XXX

_One month later... _

Sam was on edge. He had been all day, all week in fact. That in itself wasn't was unusual, but it wasn't the usual "Dean is dead" feeling either. That was always with him, underneath it all. The image of Dean's mangled body was forever imprinted on his mind. Despite the countless ways he had seen Dean die thanks to the Trickster, the hellhounds had really outdone themselves.

No, this was another feeling. A feeling of being watched. Sam knew to trust his instincts, but he really had nothing to go on, and Ruby had said he was imagining things. That he was just on edge being without his brother, without someone to watch his back.

'You're not concentrating,' Ruby whined. Sam put down his outstretched hand and sighed. The trapped demon he was suppose to be killing sagged as it was able to gulp down its cloud-like substance into its meat-sack.

'I'm trying,' he lied. He wasn't concentrating. He knew he should. He needed the practice.

'Concentrate,' Ruby enunciated. Sam shot her an annoyed look and refocused. He put his nervousness out of his mind and thought only on his anger. That always helped. He focused on his anger at Dean for making the deal, the anger at himself for letting the deal go through, and the overwhelming anger at every hellspawn he could take it all out on.

The demon was dead a moment later. Ruby nodded; the only confirmation of his success, and walked away. Sam followed her out of the abandoned warehouse and into the car. They drove back to the motel in silence.

Sam felt the itchy thirst as they drove and sped up. He needed to get back to the motel. He needed that feeling of strength back. He needed blood.

Sometimes, in the early mornings when Ruby usually wasn't around, he pretended he was a vampire; that the urge he felt was for human blood. A few months ago he would have been horrified by the idea. Now they almost amused him in a bitter sort of way. These moments of contemplation were very brief, however, and he always quickly went back to focusing on his job: killing every demon he could get his hands on. Killing demons meant being strong, and that's what Ruby helped him with. With her help, he would kill Lilith. It was just a matter of time.

Ruby seemed to know what Sam wanted and walked in front of him into the motel. He was pretty sure she was shaking her ass at him up the stairs. They were on the third floor, though Sam was a little surprised the building hadn't collapsed while they were gone. It smelled of rotted wood, lead paint and mold.

Ruby opened the door, casting him a smug smile over her shoulder as she went in. Sam followed eagerly, past the point of feeling disgusting with himself. She was halfway across the floor to the bed when she stopped dead, almost as if she had hit a wall. She spun around and Sam was surprised by the shock and rage in her eyes. She looked up and Sam followed her gaze.

A demon trap had been spay-painted onto the ceiling.

'Sam, what the hell!'

'Ruby, I swear, I didn't-' He was cut short when Eric stepped out from the bathroom, calm as you please.

'Who the hell are you?' Ruby demanded. Sam was quite literally speechless. He tried to get his throat to work, but couldn't. Eric was right there, looking exactly as he had the last time Sam had seen him, down to the same leather jacket and black top.

Then the vampire started an exorcism.

'Sam!' Ruby cried, hands going to her throat as she started coughing.

'Eric, no!' Sam rushed forward, but the vampire was fast. He charged Sam, sending him off his feet and through the door, hitting the far wall hard. As the stars in his eyes faded he saw Eric about to close the door. 'No! Stop, she's helping me,' he cried, working through the pain and pushing himself to his feet.

'You can thank me later,' Eric said and slammed the door shut just before Sam gained his feet. The hunter charged the door, pounding as hard as he could.

'Don't do it, Eric!' He reared back and delivered the hardest kick he could muster, but Eric must have been bracing it for it didn't budge. 'Eric!' Sam yelled. He was getting desperate and went back to pounding on the door. '_Eric_!' He could hear the exorcism and Ruby's cries getting louder and louder. 'Eric, no!'

Finally, it all stopped. Sam tried to calm his breathing and listen, but he couldn't hear anything and he wasn't sure if Eric had finished the exorcism.

He almost fell through the door when it opened. He looked at Eric, who just stared back blankly. Ruby was on the floor, unmistakably dead.

Sam still went to her, kneeling and taking her head in his heads. She was gone. His strength, the blood, his powers were all going to fade, he was sure of it. Lilith was going to get away.

'Dammit Eric!' Sam shot to his feet, anger coiling in his belly like fire. He wondered if he could use his powers on vampires. He wanted to find out. Eric watched him, annoyingly calm.

'You can hate me all you want,' he said. Sam breathed through his nose, trying to figure out if he should forgo his powers and just punch the bastard. 'But I couldn't stand by and let her take you.'

'Take me? She was _helping me!' _

'She was _enslaving_ you.' Eric's voice was slightly more forceful. Sam paused, studying him. Eric's eyes were practically glowing. He was clearly holding his anger back. Sam was suddenly struck by how much he had missed the vampire, but ruthlessly stomped down that feeling.

'She was helping me be stronger. You don't know what you've done-'

'I have been watching you for over a week. I know exactly what I have done.' Eric stepped forward; Sam took a step back. 'I have sent a hellspawn back to where it belongs.' Sam started shaking his head even before Eric was finished, but the vampire plowed on. 'You are not like other hunters, Sam. You are better because you see things in shades of grey. If you knew a vampire lived on True Blood you would let them live.'

'Yeah, cause I don't want the cops on my ass,' Sam mumbled. Eric ignored him.

'If you knew a werewolf was oblivious to his or her condition, you would feel remorse in killing them. When you send a vengeful spirit off to the next place, I know you feel more than a hunter's satisfaction in killing something evil. You feel glad for them, for setting them free.'

'Why are you telling me all this?' Sam whispered, turning away.

'Because when it comes to demons,' Eric declared. 'There are no shades of grey.' Sam spun back to face him, a protest on his lips, but when he saw the look in the vampires eyes he fell silent. 'Where do you think the demons get their powers from? From _hell_, and how does hell grant them powers?' Sam shook his head, either because he didn't know or didn't want to know. 'Demons are demons because they are evil. They have no humanity left in them. Ruby told you exactly what you wanted to hear. She wants you to believe she's a demon with a heart; that she wants to help you. Tell me, Sam, why were you so eager to believe her?'

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to stick his fingers in his ears. He wanted to punch Eric. He wanted to pass out and never wake up, but most of all, he wanted blood. This thought scared him more than it ever had before, because he was terrified that Eric might see, might know. Sam had no True Blood substitute.

'I'll tell you,' Eric continued relentlessly. 'Because deep down, you hope your brother will be like her. That there will still be something left of him when he's spent enough time in hell and crawls out with black eyes.'

'No, that's- that's crazy. I'm gonna get Dean back. I just need to get to Lilith. I need to be strong enough!' Eric sighed and Sam suddenly hesitated. If the vampire left too...

'I will return in a week,' Eric said, moving towards the door.

'What? Why? Where are you going?'

'In a week you'll certainly feel it, and maybe then you'll be ready to talk.'

'Feel what?' Sam hurried to the door as Eric disappeared out of sight, but the hallway was empty. He turned back to the room- a room he really needed to get out of. He didn't feel like getting rid of the body himself, so he left town instead. He knew Eric would find him now that he was back. He always did before.

The fact that he sampled Ruby's blood before he left didn't sit well with him, but he figured it was good to know if a demon's blood was still effective after an exorcism. Turns out it wasn't.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: this is a very short chapter to celebrate my return. (In reality I'm just putting off the inevitable sex scenes as I know I'll screw it up (pun a little intended). If you really want I'll write it, but I can't promise it'll be as hot as these two undeniably are together.

Note to commenters/reviewers: I've been away from half a week so I'm swamped trying to get back online and up to date. I don't know if I'll be able to answer all the comments. I have read them all and think you're all awesome. Thanks a million and I hope you continue to enjoy this story! :)

-:-

_Chapter 6. _

He didn't need to check the back of the house for the Impala. He could easily see the tire tracks in the gravel. A week had passed. It was time to check on the patient.

Eric wondered briefly if he should knock, but decided against it. The door creaked open at the smallest push, almost falling off its hinges. The house was a half burnt husk of its former glory. It was located in an almost completely abandoned neighbourhood in a small town somewhere along the Rust Belt. Eric always found such places fascinating. To him such towns and buildings seemed to have excited for only the blink of an eye. To mortals, such neighbourhoods might look like they had declined over centuries, not years. The smells were still new, though. Eric could always smell true decay.

The living room held only a soggy couch, while the kitchen and dining room were missing parts of their ceiling. Eric went upstairs and found a room that was relatively whole and unspoiled. He knew Sam was there instantly from the heavy breathing. The room appeared empty at first glance; it held only a bed and a greying carpet. Eric spotted the top of Sam's head quickly enough, however, sticking up from between the bed and the wall.

He made sure to make noise as he entered the room. The floorboards creaked his approach. He saw Sam twitch.

'What did you do to me?' The voice was almost unrecognisable from the Sam Eric had first met in Fangtasia. This was a different creature altogether.

'Don't feign stupidity. It suits you least of all,' Eric replied evenly, keeping his distance, but moving slowly around the edges of the room so he could get a better look at the hunter. Sam hung his head. Eric was fairly certain there was a bottle between the long legs. It scraped along the floor as Sam dragged it towards himself and lifted it to his lips. The gulp was a desperate attempt to quench a thirst that would not be satisfied with so thin a liquid.

'You killed Ruby. This is your fault,' Sam whined hoarsely. One arm was around his stomach, Eric saw, and both feet were pressed against the wall. He looked very small there, despite being cramped in the small space. He looked like a little boy hiding, growing out of proportion for his bedroom yet unwilling to leave the comforts it provided.

'She did this to you,' Eric told him. 'She has enslaved you to her blood. But the thirst will pass if you resist it. You can be whole again.'

'I tried hunting demons,' Sam confessed. 'I couldn't find any. Ironic, isn't it? Almost like they knew...' He trailed off and took another swig. The bottle was three quarters empty. It some sort of whisky.

'Will you let me help you?' Eric asked. 'It won't be easy, but my blood can ease the worst of the pain.'

'You want me to drink vampire blood to stop me drinking demon blood?' Sam let out a hysterical laugh, his head rolling back on the bed. 'Why not just make me a vampire?'

'Because you don't want to be a vampire,' Eric explained. 'You want to feel yourself again.'

'I don't remembered feeling like myself,' Sam admitted sadly, staring blankly at the ceiling. 'I don't think I've ever felt normal.'

'I didn't say _normal_,' Eric pointed out. He took a few steps closer, gaining Sam's attention. 'I said yourself. You are strong, Sam. You don't need any blood but your own to be that.'

'But the blood is in me. It always has been, since I was six months old,' Sam despaired. There were drunken tears in his eyes, but Eric wasn't disgusted by them as he would usually be when confronted with snivelling mortals. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at that moment, but disgust was far from it. He had of course heard of Yellow Eyes' psychic children when he had investigated why Lilith was so interested in Sam and Dean.

'Many people are born with things they have to overcome, or have accidents that make their lives difficult,' he told Sam calmly, keeping his voice clinical. 'That is why Ruby so easily seduced you. It's like... having a gene that predisposes a person to alcoholism or drug-abuse. You are more than strong enough to overcome such a predisposition.' Sam's brow furrowed at Eric's simile, but the vampire was fairly certain Sam had understood. He could see the cogs starting to turn again in those intelligent eyes.

'What do I have to do?'

'Come with me.' Eric finally stepped up to Sam and held out his hand. The hunter frowned at it as if it held the secrets of the universe.

'I don't want to drink V,' he said. Eric suspected the hunter had used the term V to point out the fact that it was considered a very potent drug on its own.

'I would not give you enough to become addicted,' Eric explained. 'Only a drop at the worst junction of your detoxing... but if you wish, I won't give it to you. I must warn you, you'll probably be begging for it soon enough.'

'Then don't give it,' Sam said fiercely. 'Even if I beg.'

'As you wish.' Finally, Sam let go of the bottle and reached out to take Eric's hand.

XXX

Eric had not anticipated the effect Sam's screams would have on him. He had found a place far away from where either of them could consider "home." Eric knew about the man Bobby Singer. He knew Sam wouldn't want the old hunter to see him like this, and Eric was still keeping away from his former club. He didn't want to think about everything he had left behind- and Sam's screams were keeping his mind pretty occupied.

A part of him wanted to slip a drop of V into the hunter's mouth. It wasn't like Sam would know. He was hallucinating almost constantly at this point. It would take the edge off. V was fairly strong hallucinogenic in itself, but Eric had witnessed the effect of the two bloods combined and knew the result could be a calmer high.

For some reason, however, he didn't. He left Sam to scream his head off alone through the worst of it, as there was nothing he could do then. When the worst passed, he cleaned away the vomit and changed the soiled clothes. He made Sam drink water and held him as he shivered so hard the rickety bed almost shook to pieces. Eventually, he fed the man some broth and wiped the sweat off his forehead. In short, Eric Northman played nursemaid to a hunter and never once did he hesitate to do any of it.

He wasn't sure when Sam became aware of his ministrations, but he was fairly certain Sam finally came out of it when those eyes blinked up at him one morning and the man finally broke. The sobs were as much from relief and embarrassment as they were from pain and despair. Eric took the mortal's fragile face in his hands and kissed him all over, then held the man to his chest as the sobs slowly died out.

XXX

Sam's world had been pain and confusion for so long, it took a while before he realised who he was, let alone where.

It was Eric's arms and body he felt first, wrapped around him tightly. He wasn't sure when or why exactly, but after he came to his senses he lost them again. By the time he regained some semblance of control he realised he had been sobbing into Eric's chest for God knew how long. They were on a bed; where he could not say. He didn't remember coming there.

Eric shifted, one arm leaving Sam's waist. A moment later and a glass was pressed against his lips as Eric lifted his head as if it weight no more than a doll's head.

'Drink,' the vampire commanded. Sam drank. He drank the whole glass, relishing the feel of the water flowing down his throat. When Eric took the glass away he was shocked to realise something else: the water had quenched his thirst. He blinked open his eyes and looked up at the vampire leaning over him.

'Where am I?' he asked, his voice so hoarse he barely understood himself.

'That doesn't matter,' Eric said. 'It's passed. Ruby's blood is out of your system.' Sam took a deep breath and felt it expand his lungs. Yes, the craving was gone. He felt, if not entirely healthy, better at least.

'I'm cured?'

'You will always be tempted,' Eric said. He reached up and brushed the hair from Sam's eyes. 'The temptation was given to you as a baby.'

'So I'm a recovering drug addict,' Sam surmised. 'Lying in bed with another drug.' The corner of Eric's lips turned up. He cupped the side of Sam's face.

'You managed without my blood, though your screams almost made me break my promise.'

'You...' Sam frowned. Eric knew him well enough to recognise it as the "I'm sorry"-frown. 'Thank you, for... respecting my wished, I guess, and for... everything.'

'Spare me your thank you's,' Eric replied, but not cruelly. 'If you think for a moment I was going to let that hellspawn bitch have you, you don't know the first thing about vampires. We are very territorial.'

'I'm your territory?' Sam was pretty sure he was suppose to freak out about that, but instead he was feeling relieved about this whole situation. Eric had come back for him, saved him and was now... claiming him? If it meant he was staying, Sam would take whatever he could get, as long as he wasn't alone.

'You are...' Eric sighed, shaking his head in a oddly fond sort of way. 'Something.' Sam couldn't help but smile at the usually eloquent vampire being so stumped. 'I hesitate to use any clichés, so how about I settle for... my hunter.' Sam quirked an eyebrow, silently demanding an elaboration. 'I have despised hunters for many, many centuries. I have killed those who have threatened either myself or people I hold dear.' Sam instinctive humanity made him frown at this, but Eric ignored it. 'With you, however, I find myself more than willing to be hunted, yet you do not hunt me at all.'

'You saved me, and my brother,' Sam pointed out. He almost managed not to wince at the mention of Dean. Every time he thought about his brother it felt like a knife to the stomach.

'True, but would you hunt me simply for my existence?' Sam's eyes betrayed him immediately so Eric answered for him. 'Exactly. You are a true hunter who only goes after his true prey. You would not hunt me before you knew my nature for certain.' Neither vampire nor hunter thought much on the fact that Eric had killed many people, for his own pleasure, before the invention of True Blood. And even then Sam didn't know if Eric was the type to stick to the bottle. He was fairly sure there was more to this vampire than a cold-blooded killer, though.

'I feel like you've been hunting me these past few months,' Sam admitted. 'You always show up out of the blue, you've tasted me-' He swallowed unconsciously at the mention of blood-sucking. 'You keep helping me...' He frowned at a sudden thought. 'I don't want to be kept as some sort of pet.'

'I can never keep you,' Eric said solemnly. Sam felt as if he was back in time, to somewhere when it was common to speak like Eric sometimes did. It made the whole room seem vast and ancient, like he was in a fairy tale, instead of on a ratty old bed in a rundown shack somewhere north of nowhere.

'I can only watch over you for as long as you'll let me,' Eric told him. 'One day you will be old and you will die, and I'll say my goodbyes, I promise you.' Even though Sam despaired at the thought of death, he found Eric's promise strangely appropriate. He also felt incredibly sad at the thought of leaving Eric behind, as if the vampire wanted to die but couldn't. He nodded, unable to speak.

Eric leaned down and kissed him then. Sam was still feeling pretty weak and pathetic after all he had been through, but he noticed his clothes were clean and fresh-feeling, and he was sure he tasted some sort of broth on his lips. He let Eric kiss away the taste quickly, opening his mouth and sighing into the languid make-out session that commenced.


	7. Chapter 7

Supernatural Blood 7

**Note**: Sorry for another short chapter! But I figure you want to read what I have instead of waiting ages for me to figure things out.

Note 2 (the unimportant one on canon); I'm re-watching season 4 and I'm becoming a die-hard Sam girl all over again. I understand where both brothers are coming from, but I just can not forgive Dean's hypocrisy in season 5, which really starts way back in season 3 and develops.

Note 4 (The really unimportant one on Dean as a trekkie): Dean Winchester is totally a closet trekkie. He makes several references to the show. In the last two episodes of season 4 (which I just watched) there's one in each. Sorry, I just had to point that out. :D

-:-

_Chapter 7._

When Sam dragged himself from a deep sleep he noticed two rather pleasant things. The first was the body wrapped around him from behind. Sure, back at Stanford they had sometimes rolled over in their sleep, and Jess had ended up hugging Sam. That hadn't really worked the moment they woke up, though. This time the person spooning Sam was actually big enough to do it. His head rested on an arm that probably couldn't fall asleep anyway, and another supernaturally strong one was slung over his waist. Long legs tangled with his own and Sam wished they didn't have two layers of denim between them. He felt Eric shift, his nose nuzzling into Sam's mop of hair, far more sweaty and unclean than Sam usually kept it. The vampire didn't seem to mind.

The other nice thing Sam noticed was that they weren't actually in a shack. His eyes hadn't exactly been on the décor last night. Now that he spared a glance at the room he saw they were in a one room log cabin, years deserted, but still sturdy enough to be liveable. The only furniture was the bed, in the middle of the room, and an old stove in a corner beside some built-in cabinets. How long had he been here? It felt like months, but surely it had only been a week at most?

'You are thinking too much,' Eric whispered. Sam sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

'I like thinking,' Sam replied sleepily. 'I haven't gotten around to it much lately, so I figure I need to catch up on it.' Eric huffed a small laugh, and Sam immediately got the idea that he had to make the vampire laugh. Really, out-of-control laughing, was something he had to see Eric do.

'You'll have plenty of time to think now that you are your own man again,' Eric pointed out and Sam had to concede the point. He didn't want to move, though. He silently relished being in Eric's embrace, and felt himself blush at the thought of the vampire knowing how much it was affecting him.

'What do we do now?' he asked to distract himself. Eric's hand moved up to Sam's chest, palm flat against where his heart was. He realised Eric was feeling his heart-beat, though why he wasn't certain.

'I suppose we'll have to continue where you left off,' Eric hummed thoughtfully.

'You mean hunting Lilith?' Sam hadn't thought Eric would even let him entertain the thought.

'If that is what you want.' Sam had to pull away then to turn so he could look Eric in the eye. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the vampire, who put his arms behind his head casually, like he was lying in the sun on a beach.

'You're okay with me hunting Lilith?'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'I don't know,' Sam huffed a breath, 'I guess I just thought you'd give me some speech about my revenge fuelling my need for blood, which got me into this whole mess.'

'I told you I'd watch over you,' Eric reminded him. 'I go where you go.' Sam blinked.

'And if I want to go after Lilith?'

'Then I would advise you to plan ahead,' Eric said. He sat up suddenly, and Sam followed, so they were eye-to-eye. 'I don't want you going off in a frenzy,' he said seriously. 'As one of your more interesting modern stories puts it: Revenge is a dish best served cold.' Sam couldn't help the small laugh at the sound of a vampire making a Star Trek reference. Maybe Dean would have liked him after all- Sam's brother was a secret trekkie.

'Aren't old people suppose to be wise and say something like: a man who goes out for revenge should dig two graves, or something?'

'There is a big difference between being a wise old man, and being immortal,' Eric informed him. 'There are few vampires that are both.' He looked off for a moment, as if remembering something, and Sam desperately wanted to ask what. It's what drew him to the vampire in the first place; all the stories he could tell, the history he could reveal. 'I do know all about wanting revenge.'

'Can you tell me about it?' Eric turned on the bed so that his feet were on the floor and his back was to Sam. 'You don't have to,' Sam began, but then shut up, because really, of course the vampire knew he didn't have to. Sam felt awkwardness creep up his spine and couldn't decide if Eric looked uncomfortable, sad, tired or just pensive. I was odd reading so much into the set of a man's shoulders. He didn't do that with anybody but Dean... until now.

'You can ask me anything, and I will try to answer your questions. I know more about you than you probably ever wished to share, so it is natural you are curious.' Sam almost sagged with relief that he hadn't pushed Eric away. He mulled over what sort of question he should ask. In the end, he could only think of one that he should start with.

'How old are you?' Eric shifted a little sideways so that Sam could see his profile. A concession perhaps.

'A thousand years.' Sam's eyes widened and he almost gasped out a "what" before he checked himself. Jesus Christ, he blinked several times. He had hoped maybe a few centuries. Eric always seemed like a gentleman from a gothic novel, not a saga. This put the whole species of vampire into a new perspective, Sam realised. Eric was not the oldest one, yet he had walked the earth for a millennium, longer than Sam could ever possibly comprehend. It was mind boggling.

'How- how did it, happen?'

'That is a long tale,' Eric murmured. 'Perhaps now is not the time. You need food and more rest before we move from here.' Eric got up and went to the cabinets, pulling out some sort of food Sam couldn't see. The hunter stared at the vampire's back, wondering if he should try another question.

'Do you...' he looked down at his lap, silently begging himself not to ask, but he heard his mouth carry on. 'Do you even know how many people you've killed? To survive?' He could hear Eric pause in whatever preparations he was doing, the deliberate fall of boots on the floor, and then Eric sitting back down. Sam looked up to find Eric gazing at him contemplatively.

'I find there are two kinds of vampires who are built to survive eternity.' Sam frowned at the perceived change of subject, but remained silent, hoping for an explanation. 'Why do you think there are so many inexperienced vampire covens for you to hunt? Or why isn't the world filled with vampires if every one made lives forever?'

'Because they get killed by hunters,' Sam answered. Eric nodded.

'Or they kill themselves.' At Sam's curious look Eric explained: 'There are two kinds of vampires who manage to beat the odds. One is the vampire that is brought into the curse against his or her will. They are stolen from their beds because of their beauty, or a vampire who can't finish the job. They get by because they give themselves fully over to the curse with a perfect rationalisation: "I can't help myself."' Eric smiled grimly at this and Sam looked away, uncomfortable. '"I did not choose this, I have as much a right to survival as any other creature who kills to survive." They are usually the vampires who love a good blood orgy after a few centuries.'

'And the other kind?' Sam asked, swallowing nervously.

'The type that asks for it. The person who is offered the gift of immortality with a terrible price, amd says yes. They most often perish due to guilt.' Sam looked up at this, confused. Eric nodded. 'Oh, yes, vampires can feel guilt. We feel everything you do. Love, hate, greed, sorrow. It's all there. Newborns are overcome with thirst, this is true, but that passes, eventually, and guilt sets in.'

'So how to they reach... old age?'

'They follow a simple rule: kill only the wicked.' Sam's brows furrowed dubiously at this, and Eric smiled. 'When you feast on murderers and rapists and the violently insane, you are much less likely to kill yourself. Certainly, as the centuries pass it becomes easier to ignore such a rule. Some do tend to forget what humanity feels like, but a few live by it like it was gospel.'

'And you?' Sam pressed, eyes suddenly intense. 'Which type are you?' Eric's smile hadn't left his face, but it turned a little bitter.

'I'm a little of both I suppose,' he said cryptically. 'I did accept this curse, though I lay dying at the time and at first was prepared to go to Valhalla.'

'Valhalla?' Sam's nerd brain immediately brought out everything he knew about norse mythology. 'You were a Viking?' It made sense; the age coupled with the size, the strength, the blondness. Eric had no doubt been a powerful warrior. The thought excited Sam more than was probably deemed safe.

'Another story, for another day,' Eric ended the conversation. Sam tried to be grateful for the answers he had gotten. He watched Eric prepare food he would not be eating and came to one conclusion that would no doubt shape the rest of his time here on earth: Eric was more than just a cold-blooded killer, and even if he had killed innocents, Sam was too deep in to stop the feelings he felt rushing through him already.


	8. Chapter 8

Supernatural Blood 8.

Note: So... Apparently, I'm doing this in short chapters, sorry, but at least I update frequently. I hope this scene works for you guys...

-:-

Chapter 8.

When they finally decided Sam was fit enough to leave, Eric suggested he carry the hunter on his back and run to the car. Sam refused. He hiked down on his own, ignoring Eric's snarky comments about "hunter pride."

He actually enjoyed it very much. The forest was cold, but fresh. He was guided by both stars and moon. Eric had brought the sawed-off so Sam had something to protect himself with, though neither thought there was much that could harm him in the forest.

Eric had to leave well before they reached the car. He would go back and sleep in the cabin, and meet Sam the next night at whatever motel he found.

Sam drove south all day, listening to music and trying to focus on the feeling of freedom that surged through him. Freedom from Ruby and the blood.

He thought a lot about Dean and what his brother would say if he were slouching in the passenger seat. "Exchanging a demon for a vampire? Smart, Sammy, real smart." Or perhaps: "Dude, you are in way over your head."

Maybe he was. But he felt better than he had in a long time. When Dean died Sam had thought he was done with these kinds of feelings, but here he was, feeling... not terrible, and not hyped up on demon blood to push the pain away. It was all bitter sweet, for the knowledge that Dean would not approve lingered.

But Dean wasn't there. Eric was. Sam clutched the wheel tighter and tried not to let grief consume the good.

He watched the sun go down from the motel window. It was a bit nicer than his usual type, but he hadn't wanted to drive further. After hiking half the night and driving all day, however, he couldn't stay awake for long.

XXX

Cold kisses.

Little pinpricks of cold skipping up his neck, along his jaw, his cheek, his forehead. A delicious chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps rose all over him.

Sam gasped when a hand snaked up his shirt.

'Are you awake yet?' Eric whispered. 'You drove far longer than I expected. I thought we'd have all night.'

'That might be a problem if we're going to hunt together,' Sam commented, opening his eyes. He watched as Eric started unbuttoning his shirt, trying to keep his heartbeat in check; it wouldn't do to get ahead of the game.

'If you truly want a compromise,' Eric said as he contemplated Sam's bare chest. 'Then you can sleep half the day and half the night. You'll need some daylight hours during hunts for your research and information gathering.' With that he leaned down and bit very lightly at the skin right above Sam's heart. The hunter groaned when the skin was breached. Eric sucked out just a few drops. 'Your blood gets cleaner every day.'

'That's your demon blood test?' Sam asked with an incredulous noise at the back of his throat as Eric licked the wound closed.

'Quick and effective,' Eric explained. 'You were too out of it to notice before.' He sat up and stared down at Sam, waiting. 'So, are we doing this or not?' Sam swallowed. Eric raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. Without hesitating, Sam nodded. Eric smiled a wicked smile that sent more shivers down Sam's spine. The vampire pulled off his black tank top in one swift motion, while Sam wriggled out of his shirt.

Their lips and chests crashed together, hands roaming, pulling open their jeans and tugging them down desperately. Apparently, Eric had somehow removed Sam's shoes and socks while he slept, cause Sam was pretty sure he had fallen asleep with them still on.

Sam had always been a rough-sex kind of guy, with girls and boys. With Jess it had been slightly more subdued, but from the first girl after her Sam had been back to his habits. Sure, Madison had been a werewolf, but Sam hadn't. Not to mention what he and Ruby had gotten up to- but he didn't want to think about that.

Eric matched his strength, probably deliberately. Sam knew the vampire could just take, but the old viking seemed intent on making it a level playing field. He allowed Sam to roll them over, now finally divested of their clothing.

Eric was cold, but so smooth and soft, yet hard, like a skin-thick layer of silk over marble. Sam couldn't get enough of the feel of it, running his hands everywhere, kissing, tasting, biting; though he could never break the skin.

'Wanna warm up?' Sam asked when Eric kissed his neck hard, right over his left shoulder. Eric hissed and broke the skin at once, taking a few mouthfuls before closing the wound quickly.

Astonishingly, Sam could feel his own warmth spread through Eric as the blood flowed into him. His eyes widened with slight awe at the supernaturalness of it. By the look on Eric's face, the vampire was well aware of what Sam found fascinating. He opened his legs, allowing Sam to settle between them properly. The room had gone strangely silent.

'No more,' Eric warned. Sam nodded. He remembered what Eric had said about his blood, and he didn't want this to be about that. With Ruby it had always really been about blood, but this... this was so far from that Sam considered them different acts entirely. 'Are you going to fuck me, or will I have to settle for a hand-job this time as well?' Sam's eyes narrowed at the small taunt. He gave a experimental thrust, sliding their groins together. Eric hissed. 'I don't require preparation.' That got Sam going, in more ways than one.

He couldn't control himself, but he knew he didn't half to either and that made him lose even more control. He took the vampire with one hard thrust. Luckily, Eric couldn't break, even if Sam tried.

Sam gasped and Eric laughed, a breathless and incredibly satisfied laugh. 'That's it,' he groaned. More than anything perhaps, Sam loved the fact that he had lean into up to kiss Eric, when he would usually have to bend down. He loved how Eric wrapped those long legs around his waist and rocked with him. He loved how he had easy access to that silky smooth, white expanse of chest, completely hairless. He loved the fact that Eric was so _big,_ just like him, all 6.3 feet of him. The fact that Eric seemed to enjoy all of it just as much, and that they both knew it, made it intoxicating.

'Harder, come on, you can do better,' Eric growled. Sam made the bed rock in response.

Despite the roughness, it was definitely the most intimate Sam had felt with someone since Jess.

Eric arched a little and Sam sucked on the expose neck. By now Sam was slick with sweat, but Eric was dry as always, smooth and cold once more, but very much alive. Eric's mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sam realised the vampire was orgasming, dry. He pressed his forehead to Eric's chest and finished with a few erratic thrusts, gasping for breath by the end. His head felt heavy, his thoughts blank. He pressed his heated cheek to the cold chest, cooling down.

'Best this century, I think,' Eric commented after a few silent moments. Annoyingly, Eric wasn't out of breath, which was also completely logical when you thought about it. Sam, however, felt properly exhausted and sated.

'Your pillow talk could use some work,' Sam mumbled into the chest he had decided to use as a pillow for the foreseeable future. He didn't care it if was hard. He did rearrange himself so they were both more comfortable.

'I'm not the most romantic of vampires.'

'You'll do,' Sam managed to murmur before falling back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks a bunch to everyone who is reading this story and enjoying it. Although my muse demanded I write this instead of the original HP/SPN crossover, but it's making a comeback soon. Since the semester is over, I'm hoping I can have time for both! :)

**Note**: I was a hardcore Anne Rice fan waaaay back in the day. I even did reports on her books for my English class (which I think freaked my teacher out a little... :D) but as some of you might know she's very...*cough* strict when it comes fanfiction. This is difficult of course because my image of the modern vampire is forever tied to her stories. Without her, we wouldn't have Twilight... Not so much of a fan these days... but if you are and notice something that's more Rice than True Blood, please speak out, as this was not my intention.

**Note**two, cause apparently I love notes now: Sorry for being so vague in the sex scenes. I prefer leaving most of it to your imagination ;)

-:-

**Chapter 9. **

'You go round back,' Sam whispered.

'Usually, I would agree, but in this case we might be at an advantage with a frontal assault. They won't expect it,' Eric argued. They were parked in the car across the street from the picture-perfect suburban house. It looked quiet, too quiet. There had been demon omens around town. After checking things out, Sam had concluded it was foot-soldier demons having a "good" time. They'd seen more and more of these types of situations ever since the hell-gate opened. Not all the demons were working with Lilith; some of them were just glad to be out.

'Look, we've got a system,' Sam huffed. They had, sort of, even if they'd only been hunting for a couple of weeks. Sam went in first, got them distracted, and then Eric showed up – usually scaring the crap out of the creatures if they realised just how powerful a vampire he was.

They had ganked a shape-shifter, a weird water-demon creature, and a good share of ghosts, and they had done it fast. Eric seemed content to follow Sam's lead on hunting, since he didn't know the procedures, but once they were in a fight, Sam felt small for the first time in anyone's presence.

Eric was so fast it wasn't even cool, it was just downright scary. With ghosts it didn't always help, since they could be just as fast if they were strong and angry enough. Most creatures, though, wouldn't stand a chance.

They avoided vamp-counties and all signs of vampirism. After everything Sam had seen in his life, the fact that vampire-cases were now left to regular law-enforcement was the weirdest. Besides, Eric seemed to want to stay away from his own kind.

Demons, however, were a first for them.

'The ability to adapt-' Eric began, but Sam cut him off, knowing exactly what the vamp would say.

'You just don't want me in there alone with demons,' Sam blurted out. The air in the car seemed to compress. Sam didn't like to talk about the days in the cabin, or Ruby. Eric had let him avoid the subject.

'I have every faith in you,' Eric said so seriously that Sam looked at him. The vampiric eyes were shining with more than their usual intensity. Sam realised no one had said something like that to him since... Hell, he couldn't remember the last time anyone said they had faith in him. He looked away to hide his reaction. 'But I also don't want you to tempt yourself unnecessarily. Your justifications makes you more vulnerable than most.'

'My justifications?'

'You wanted to be stronger, to save lives – that's what you told yourself.' Sam nodded in acknowledgement. 'But these things, in some ways, are true. The demon blood did make you stronger, just not in the way that you should want. How many addicts do you know who can say that of their addiction? This makes it more dangerous, more tempting.'

'I'll be fine,' Sam insisted. Eric got out of the car abruptly and Sam did the same. Their eyes met over the hood.

'All right then,' Eric said softly. 'We do it your way.' Eric took the knife while Sam took the sawed-off. He would shoot them, distract them, and Eric could swoop in and slit their throats. Demons were fast, though, so they'd have to be careful.

Sam's plan, it turned out, wasn't the best.

XXX

'You need blood,' Sam said, supporting the vampire as they limped their way to the car. The house they left behind was a blood-bath. Sam was surprised he had gotten away with just bruises. His ribs might have gotten a close-call, but he didn't think anything had broken. Eric had been amazing, but the last demon-bitch had stabbed him deep and dragged the butcher's knife across his abdomen. Eric had stabbed her neck at the same moment with the knife and then held himself together, literally, before his guts spilled out. Sam rushed and pulled out the knife from the bitch, turned sharply and managed, through sheer luck, to catch the last stampeding demon right in the chest.

For half a second he had watched the blood spay with fascinating, a sudden yearning overwhelming him, but then Eric had fallen to his knees and all thought of demon blood was gone.

'I think there's a six-pack left in the trunk.' They stocked up on True Blood wherever they came across it. Sometimes locals found Eric fascinating and even bought him a drink, watching fixedly as the vampire drank it. Sam didn't like those places much.

Sam got the passenger door open and helped Eric in. The wound was closing, but slowly. It was a miracle the useless guts hadn't dropped to the kitchen floor. Sam grimaced at the sight. Eric was always pale, but now he was pure white, with the red blood everywhere putting his skin in stark relief.

'Jesus, you sure it'll be enough?' he asked even as he hurried back to get the six-pack. He opened the first bottle and handed it over. Eric grimaced at the taste- he really preferred it heated.

'Maybe I'll need something warmer to get the taste out of my mouth,' Eric mumbled. Sam got behind the wheel and drove. Eric managed to drink the rest of the six-pack, pouring it down his throat one after the other.

'If you think you need more than I can give you-' Sam stopped himself. He didn't want to think about Eric drinking from some random stranger.

The drive back to the motel was silent. He helped Eric inside and onto the bed. The vampire groaned. Sam pried the red hands away from the wound and found the hole fairly closed up.

'Will you be all right?' he asked, genuinely worried.

'I need more,' Eric gasped. 'Thirsty.' Sam frowned, but made his decision. He lay down beside the vampire and leaned over, exposing his throat. The reaction was immediate. Eric sunk his teeth in, more deeply than ever before. Sam gasped, bracing himself on the headboard. Eric drank, and drank. Sam almost asked him to stop, when suddenly Eric let go and relaxed back into the bed.

'No more, get away from me,' the vampire begged. Sam retreated quickly, one hand going to his neck, but the bite wound had been closed. He dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat, staring.

Eric's eyes were squeezed shut, blood lined his lips, and the rest of him was still covered in his own blood. The reminder that Eric wasn't invincible sat cold and hard in Sam's gut. What if the bitch had slit his throat instead, maybe all the way?

'Are you all right?' Sam asked, feeling useless. With Dean there had been stitches to do, alcohol to pour and drink, and maybe a manly pat on the back to say "glad you're not dead." What was the procedure with a vampire?

'Still thirsty,' Eric wheezed. He sat up slowly. 'But I'll handle it.' He paused once he had his feet on the floor to gather himself. Sam clenched his jaw. 'I'll be back tomorrow night.' Eric heaved himself up and went to the door. He looked a mess, but he walked in a straight line. Sam rose, feeling frustrated, but knowing he shouldn't say or do anything.

'You're just going to find some random person?' The words spilled out. Eric paused, but didn't turn back.

'I'll be back tomorrow night,' he repeated and left. Sam fell into the chair, exhausted, bruised and covered in blood from himself, demons and a really annoying vampire.

XXX

Sam drove all day despite his bruises and hurt ribs. He had to do something to distract himself. Unconsciously, he headed in the direction of Bobby's. His mind drifted back to when he had called the man for the first time since Eric had saved him. He hadn't been looking forward to that particular conversation...

_Flashback_

Sam felt guilty as hell for not calling Bobby during that last week with Ruby. He hadn't been able to call after that, but he still felt awful about it. He knew he had to introduce Bobby to Eric, somehow. The idea made hysterical laughter bubble up, though the sheer terror underlying it kept it down. When they had successfully skipped town after their first hunt, Sam had bit the bullet and called. Eric was going to be sticking around, and that meant he had to explain some things.

'Hello?' Sam wasn't sure how to judge that particular hello, but he thought maybe Bobby didn't sound too angry. Or maybe he hadn't checked the called-id.

'Hey, Bobby, it's Sam.'

'You got a lot of nerve calling here with a "it's Sam." Where the hell have you been, boy!' Sam sighed, glad Bobby was yelling. If he had been silent that meant real trouble.

'I'm sorry, Bobby,' Sam said. He sat down on the motel bed, elbows on knees.

'You bet your ass you're sorry.' Bobby sighed and Sam really hoped Bobby would forgive him. 'You okay?' Sam sighed in relief.

'I'm... good, actually,' Sam said, surprising himself.

'Really?' Bobby sounded more than a little skeptical.

'Yeah, I'm getting better. I'm hunting with someone, actually.'

'Who?' Bobby asked, clearly surprised.

'His name is Eric. We've known each other a while, before... a few months before Dean-... He showed up recently and really saved my ass. He's... he's a good guy.'

'Eric, huh? This hunter have a last name?'

'Northman, but he hasn't been hunting that long.'

'You're hunting with a rookie?' Bobby asked incredulously.

'He's good, Bobby,' Sam told him seriously. 'He's strong and fast and probably smarter than me.'

'Sounds dreamy,' Bobby said sarcastically, causing Sam to snort a laugh. Bobby didn't know how right he was.

'I wouldn't be able to call you if it wasn't for him.' That silenced Bobby.

'Well, I guess I owe him one,' the old hunter said gruffly. 'You be careful, Sam, and for God's sake stay in touch.'

'I will, I swear.'

'And bring this Eric by when you get the chance.'

'So you can grill him?' Sam asked, smiling even though the thought of the two in a room together was more than a little terrifying.

'So I can thank him.' Sam didn't get a chance to say anything else before Bobby hung up.

_End flashback_

By the time the sun went down Sam was holed up in a cheap motel by the side of the interstate. He hadn't even glanced at the local newspapers of the towns he had passed by. He was on edge, waiting.

Finally, Eric walked in, without knocking. He took one look at Sam and rolled his eyes.

'I bought True Blood,' Sam said. Was that a peace-offering? He didn't know himself. He nodded towards the fridge. Luckily, there was a microwave in the room too. Eric fixed himself a bottle, though by the look of him Sam didn't think the vampire was particularly thirsty. Sam could tell from more than just the slightly less pale face. Eric had drunk his fill last night and looked much better. He wore new clothes too; a black t-shirt and fairly tight jeans. He looked edible, though Sam cringed at the phrase the moment he thought it. He didn't want to get distracted. Eric sat by the small table and took a small sip. Sam stayed on the bed, glad for some distance.

'So, are we gonna talk about it?' Sam asked tensely.

'I fail to see the point.' Eric's voice was flat and lifeless, his focus on the window, but Sam didn't think the vampire was studying the occasionally passing car.

'You're not even gonna tell me who you drank from last night?'

'Sucking blood from a person's neck without their consent is morally wrong no matter who the person is, so I fail to see the point.' Now Eric's voice held a bit of a warning edge to it, but Sam ignored it.

'So all that crap about there being two kinds of vampires, that was what?' Sam asked. 'To shut me up?'

'No, that still holds true, for vampires, not for you.' Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

'Can't you just-'

'You knew what I was from the first,' Eric cut in. He stared at Sam with hard eyes, forcing the hunter to look away first. Sam felt more than heard Eric get up and come over to the bed. He paused, gazing down at Sam, who finally looked up to meet the almost sad eyes.

'I know what you are,' Sam said.

'Then discussing the subject is pointless.'

'But you could have drunk more from me, or True Blood-'

'I don't want blood to come between us,' Eric almost shouted the last bit and Sam startled a little. He had never witnessed Eric angry like this. The vampire crawled slowly onto the bed. Sam stretched out automatically, used to the intimacy now, but still a little apprehensive about Eric's mood. The vampire moved up until he straddled Sam, hands on either side of his head.

'True Blood can sustain me,' Eric admitted, his voice reasonable and calm once more. 'But I wasn't exactly in a state to buy some last night. Besides, it tastes like horse blood when cold.' They both fell silent for a moment before Eric leaned down. The kiss was soft and cold, like most of Eric's kisses. Sam opened his mouth in invitation and Eric took it.

Sam felt a strange surge of protective feelings towards Eric. The old viking wanted him, not his blood. He wanted their relationship to be something more. Could a monster want that? Then again, if Eric was evil, he was certainly well matched with Sam. He silently and mentally let the matter drop and accepted that Eric would do what he had to in a survival situation, just like Sam.

'I want you,' Eric whispered as if he had heard Sam's thoughts. Sam groaned as the cold hands snaked up his shirt. He knew Eric was probably trying to distract him a little, but it hardly mattered when he had decided to let the matter drop. Eric quickly undid Sam's fly and slipped his hand inside, drawing a gasp from his human lover. Sam understood what Eric meant.

He grabbed the pale face and kissed the cold lips hard. When next they broke apart they got their clothes off with much more practice routine than their first encounter. They didn't spare a look at each other naked bodies; they were much too familiar with them now. They clashed together, rolling on the bed so they almost tumbled off. Sam huffed a laugh at their loss of control with each other. It was always the same- it started rough just like Sam liked, and Eric seemed built for in every respect - but by the time they reached the height of passion, Eric was dragging things out. A fucking tease of a vampire, that's what he was.

'It's _my_turn,' Eric growled, using his teeth to tease Sam's neck. He took Sam's wrists and held them against the bed, trapping the human underneath him.

'Well, I don't break easily,' Sam breathed, 'but I can break, unlike you.' Eric let go of one hand and touched his fingers to Sam's cheek. His eyes glowed with some fierce emotion Sam couldn't identity. It made his heart jump, though.

'Do you trust me?' Eric whispered the question, a mere whiff of breath, but Sam heard him. He swallowed and nodded without hesitation. A slow, wicked smile spread across Eric's face and for a moment Sam wondered if he had falled into the spider's net. His Adam's apple bobbed. Then Eric pounced.


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Sorry for the longer than usual wait. It's not for lack of effort on my part! I have re-written this chapter so many times I've lost count! I'm still not sure this is the best option, but I have other stuff to think about too so I give up!

Also: I give in to your high demand of more smexy times. ;)

-:-

_Chapter 10. _

'That tickles,' Sam said, his laugh turning to a gasp as Eric's teasing kisses turned into a teasing scraping of teeth. 'Hey, are vampires ticklish?' Sam looked down at the vampire currently working his way across Sam's taunt chest. Sam had gone to sleep in the middle of the day, as usual, and been woken up by a nice blow-job. Eric hadn't gotten off yet, though, so they weren't nearly done.

'I'm not,' Eric answered rather curtly as if he thought the question was stupid. Sam grinned.

'I bet you are.' Eric bit down almost hard enough to break the skin and Sam groaned as Eric started teasing him with his long, cold fingers as well. Sam had come to love those cold fingers. They made everything that much more exhilarating. Not to mention the fact that Eric was cold inside, as well as out.

The phone rang, making Sam groan out of frustration. Eric withdrew his fingers quickly, propping his head up with one hand. Sam reached for his phone on the nightstand and flipped it open.

'Hey, Bobby,' he said with strained enthusiasm. He gave Eric a look as if to say "get off me, I don't want to be naked and talking to Bobby." Eric just smiled serenely back, making Sam roll his eyes. 'No, we haven't got another case yet.' Eric reached out with his other hand and traced a finger across Sam's stomach. Sam batted him away, trying to concentrate on what Bobby was saying. 'Well, maybe a day and half's drive, but-' He closed his eyes. 'Sure, no, yeah, of course.' He batted at Eric's wandering hand again. 'Yeah, see you.' He hung up and tossed the phone back to the nightstand, and sighed back into the bed.

'You knew taking the last case would bring us close enough for him to insist on us coming,' Eric murmured. Sam threw an arm over his eyes. The vampire contemplated the wide expanse of skin in front of him, so much darker than his own skin.

'I know,' Sam sighed. 'You don't have to. I can make up an excuse.' Eric traced the lines of the stomach muscles, which twitched nicely in response.

'I don't mind,' he answered. Sam removed his arm and tilted his head down to stare at his pale lover. Eric easily read the look. 'I don't,' he insisted. 'It's not like I've never heard an insulting word from mortals about what I am. If you want to tell him, then I can easily withstand the abuse... and any attempts to kill me,' he added, only half-jokingly. Sam snorted, his head falling back down onto the pillow.

'Yeah, I'm betting about three attempts before I get him to hear me out, and then another one after he's listened to my explanation. Then he'll just tell us both to get the hell out.' Eric shifted a bit further down. This meant his lower half had to move off the bed, but he didn't mind. He grabbed Sam's hips and pulled the hunter to a good position so he could reach his prize. Sam made an appreciative noise as Eric went back to their original goal from before Bobby interrupted.

'I'll head out tomorrow morning. You can follow, if you want,' Sam decided with a pleasurable sigh as Eric expertly prepared him. Their familiarity was just as delicious, Sam had concluded, as their original excitement at the unknown. Eric bit a hip while he made Sam spread his legs.

Sam liked everything they did together, even when they were both banged up and too tired for much activity. He liked their rough sex perhaps most of all. Nothing quite turned him on like when Eric let him throw the vamp against the wall or onto the bed, far harder than a normal human could handle.

Eric kissed and licked his way up Sam's torso, grabbing the long legs as he went to urge them into position. Sam obliged instantly, wrapping his legs around that slim waist. Their lips met, hot meeting cold, as Eric sank in gratefully. Sam gave a deep moan of satisfaction. He'd already come only a few minutes ago, but he knew Eric could last just as long as Sam needed, and he never needed long when Eric decided to speed things up. There were definite advantages to having a supernatural boyfriend, though Sam's Winchester-gene made him shy away from the word "boyfriend." The loud-mouthed macho man inside him that sounded suspiciously like his brother would always shout obscenities when he thought it.

Then again, the voice never complained when Eric used the slow and steady build-up technique, driving Sam mental before the end. Sam suspected the vampire did it just because Sam always banged Eric like a piston-engine by comparison.

Sam was sweaty already, it was just the way he was, but Eric didn't seem to mind that. His hands slid over Sam's shining chest, his tongue lapped at Sam's throat, licking up to suck at an earlobe. Sam bucked with a gasp, and then soon after that they were lost. Eric sped up and let go, and they both forgot who was in control or how long they were suppose to last. It didn't last long at all.

As Sam caught his breath afterwards, Eric sat up against the headboard. Sam always thought Eric looked like an old movie star in those moments, and thought the only thing missing was a cigarette. He never said this, though.

'Remember to eat before you leave,' Eric said. Being on a rather odd schedule, Sam sometimes forgot when to eat. He smiled at Eric's comment.

'Yes, Mom.' Eric rewarded his sarcasm with a bite to the shoulder, not breaking the skin. Sam pushed the vampire away with a laugh and got up to shower. His nervousness over the phone call was gone from his system.

XXX

Eric had called when night had fallen and asked where Sam had gotten to. Sam had made good time and so they drove the rest of the way together. They would arrive late, but that wasn't unusual for hunters. It wasn't an attempt to trick Bobby or anything, Sam insisted. Bobby was too good not to spot what Eric was before the vampire had climbed the porch steps. In the end, Sam realised the only way to do this was out in the open.

So they were both in the car when they drove into Bobby's salvage yard. The lights were on and the man himself came out onto the porch just as Sam killed the engine. He glanced over at Eric, and was pretty sure he had the exact same expression on him, though the vampire was better at hiding it. Sam could see it, though: apprehension.

Sam got out first and went straight for Bobby, meeting the guy at the bottom of the steps.

'It's good to see you Sam,' Bobby said sincerely as they hugged. Sam found himself relieved to see the old hunter again. For a moment all the nervousness drained away and he was just glad.

'You too, Bobby,' he said, patting the man on the back as they parted, both smiling. Sam watched as Bobby looked towards the Impala and knew the exact moment Eric was spotted. Bobby was curious, but Sam saw he hadn't pegged Eric for a vampire, yet.

'This is Eric Northman,' Sam decided the only way to play it was normal. He gestured towards his hunting partner. 'He's turning out to be a great hunter.' Eric rounded the car and came towards them, and closer to the light from the lamp by the door. 'He's saved my ass more than once now.'

'So you said,' Bobby commented with an odd tone, assessing the newcomer with a hunter's eyes. They narrowed slightly as Eric stepped up to them, hand outstretched.

'A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Singer,' Eric said with the suaveness that Sam usually kinda envied. He didn't now, though. It sounded out of place in Bobby's yard. 'Sam's told me all about you.'

'He has, has he?' Bobby said dubiously. He took the hand and shook it. Sam had wanted Eric to drink from him in the car before they arrived, so the vampire wouldn't be so noticeably cold, but Eric had refused. Bobby didn't comment on it, though. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Bobby turned abruptly and stalked back inside. 'Sam, a word in private,' he almost growled. Sam send Eric a look of slight panic, but Eric just turned back to the Impala and leaned against it.

Bobby rounded on him the moment Sam closed the door behind them.

'Are you fucking stupid, kid?' Sam sighed at Bobby's tone. He had known this wouldn't be easy.

'I know what you're going to say,' Sam began, lifting his hands in a placating manner, and putting on his best "please trust me" look.

'Oh, I've got all kinds of stuff I wanna say,' Bobby half-yelled. 'First is: are you fucking stupid?'

'He saved my life, he's not like-'

'So help me God, if you say he's really some misunderstood Dracula-character, I'll shoot you myself!'

'If you could just hear me out,' Sam pleaded. Bobby suddenly rushed forward, grabbed Sam's collar and tugged him forward. Sam was confused for a moment before he realised Bobby was looking at his throat. He pushed the old hunter away, a little more violently than intended.

'He is not feeding on me,' Sam growled. 'It's not like that.' _I'm not a fangbanger_, was what he really said, but clearly neither of them wanted to use that term.

'Then what the hell is it like, Sam?' Bobby shook his head in shocked confusion. 'Why the hell would you hunt with what you're suppose to be hunting?'

'We don't hunt vampire anymore,' Sam pointed out.

'Don't feed me that equal-rights bullshit!'

'It's not bullshit!' They were in full-scale yelling mode now. 'We let vampires go long before the Great Revelation if we knew they fed on animals. Even Dean-'

'Dean might let a few vegan-vamps walk away, but he sure as hell wouldn't consider-' Bobby seemed so angry he was at a loss for words. 'THIS!'

'You don't know what Dean would say about this,' Sam said, his voice quiet again as he controlled his emotions. He hated thinking about Dean, much less say the name out loud.

'If your brother could see you now, he'd be-'

'What?' Sam demanded, advancing instinctively to intimidate with his height. Bobby just gave him a disgusted look that pierced Sam's heart. 'You don't know what he'd say, and you know why? Because Dean is dead.' _Jesus Christ,_ Sam hadn't known it would hurt that much to say it. He felt stinging behind his eyes.

'So you replace him with a vampire?' Bobby asked in appalled wonder.

'Eric is nothing like Dean, and what we have together is nothing like what me and Dean had,' Sam said through clenched teeth.

'_What you have together_?' Bobby's eyes widened. 'Jesus Christ, Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?' Sam let his head fall, hiding the tears that he knew would fall at any moment. A part of him had hoped Bobby was more open-minded, but maybe it had nothing to do with open-mindedness. Maybe it was all about hitting too close to home. Lots of people could be open-minded enough to let people do what they wanted behind closed doors, but if it turned up in the family, the tune changed.

'I was in a bad place, Bobby,' Sam confessed. 'I was working with Ruby.' He didn't let Bobby get a word in, but he heard the sharp intake of breath. 'She convinced me I needed to be strong to kill Lilith, and I so wanted to kill her. It was the only thing I could think about, all the time.' He took a breath to steady his voice. 'But she was manipulating me. Hell, she was enslaving me, slowly, to her will. Eric showed up one day- I hadn't seen him in over a month- and he killed her. Just like that. I was pissed at him first. I wanted to kill him, but when she was gone...' Sam couldn't say he'd been drinking her blood. He couldn't confess that. One major confession was enough for one day. 'Eric helped me, more than you can imagine. And I've known him for a while now. He's saved me before. Hell, he saved Dean.'

'When?'

'We were down in a place called Bontemps,' Sam explained, closing his eyes to try to gather his thoughts. 'Dean got kidnapped by a group of vampires. Eric owned a local vamp-bar and I went to look for Dean there. Eric took me straight to them and distracted them while I got Dean out. Later that night he came to the motel to check on us. I guess that's when all of this really started...' Silence met this statement. Sam finally looked up and couldn't read the expression on Bobby's face. The hunter suddenly walked past Sam to the front door. The younger hunter followed with no small amount of trepidation.

Eric stood just were they had left him, leaning against the Impala. He looked up at them, his face betraying nothing. Bobby came down the steps and studied the vampire for a few moments.

'What the hell do you want?' he asked.

'Sam,' Eric answered, honestly. It made Sam cringe outwardly, though his heart gave a ridiculous little flutter. The honest, yet disturbing answer shocked Bobby into silence for a few moments.

'For what, exactly? What do you mean?'

'I love him.' Sam's eyes probably widened just as much as Bobby's at that statement. It was said so matter-of-factly, however, that neither hunter really knew what to do except to accept it. Bobby blinked slowly, twice.

'You love him? A vampire in love with a hunter?' It sounded like Bobby had heard Eric propose that up was down, so unlikely was this scenario.

'Even though I'm immortal, I don't wait around for that idealised perfect mate,' Eric explained calmly. 'Even a vampire can't afford to turn away such feelings when they come, no matter unlikely the match, or how much time we have.'

'That is... the stupidest thing I have ever heard,' Bobby pronounced. Sam's face fell. Eric's calm, yet strangely passionate speech sounded like it could have worked.

'If you want some sort of promise that I won't hurt him,' Eric replied. 'I don't feel like giving it. It's pointless anyway since you won't take a vampire's word. I have already told Sam I'm staying for as long as he wants me to stay. The question is, do you want him to stay?'

Sam held his breath in the silence, wishing he could see Bobby's face. Eric stared at the old hunter with a quiet, challenging look. Finally, Bobby turned once more and headed back inside. Sam took a few steps to start to follow, to ask what Bobby had decided, when the old hunter stopped just outside the door. Without turning, he told Sam gruffly:

'Come back in the morning. When it's light.' With that he went in and banged the door shut. Sam stared at it for a moment, unsure what the reaction meant. He looked over to Eric, who shrugged in response. Sam went back to the Impala and they both got in. He felt numb. On the drive to the nearest motel for a few hours sleep, Sam found he only had one question about the encounter.

'So... you love me?'

'Don't,' Eric said. 'I said it, you heard it, end of story.' A smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth, and he couldn't help but reply:

'No chick-flick moments, got it.'

'I told you, I'm not a romantic vampire.' Sam nodded, eyes on the road, but now he was grinning.

XXX

Some would think waking up in your own grave after a 40 year stay in hell would be a relief, but it wasn't. Oblivion would have been a relief.

In hell Dean was never alone. There was always either someone there- Alastair, a lower-ranking demon, or his own victims- or he could hear screams not far off. It was never silent in hell. In fact, Dean doubted most of the demons even knew the meaning of the word.

In the box, it was silent as, well, the grave.

It freaked him out more than he'd ever admit to anyone, but that same fear gave him the strength to push his way out.

Getting back to Bobby, to someone human and breathing and normal, still wasn't a relief. It meant he truly was out of hell. Strange that such a thought should scare him, but it did. Bobby did the tests, twice, and then Dean could finally ask what he wanted to know:

'Where's Sam?' Dean took the offered bottle Bobby handed him, and watched the old hunter carefully as he sat down opposite at the kitchen table.

'He's... well, he's pretty good.' Bobby looked almost surprised to say it, and Dean frowned. Somehow, that wasn't the answer he had been expecting. He didn't want his brother to still be grieving for him, but he had thought Sam would be a little worse off than... good.

'Good?' Dean asked for clarification. Bobby nodded, took a long swig of his beer and sighed.

'I admit, I was worried at first. He disappeared right after we buried you. Didn't call, didn't answer when I called. I got in touch with him once and he said to stay away from him. He sounded bad, and drunk. I thought he'd fallen into some deep shit and I was right, but then a few weeks later he called me out of the blue to apologise.' Dean thought that first part sounded a lot more like the destructive tendencies all Winchesters had whenever loss visited them. He was so engrossed in imagining what his stupid little brother had gotten himself into, he almost missed the next part.

'He's hunting with someone.'


	11. Chapter 11

Note: Thank you to everyone who is still enjoying this story! I am amazed I've written so much on it and it's all thanks to the interest you show! :)

Note on chapter: Even since about chapter 2 I have dreaded writing this chapter. I think you know why: getting Dean's reaction right is not easy when you're dealing with such a complicated character. I hope you like the version I ended up with.

-:-

Chapter 11.

'He's hunting with someone.'

The words made the bottom drop out of Dean's stomach. He shook his head to clear it, for obviously he had heard wrong, right?

'Come again?'

'He's hunting with someone,' Bobby repeated, a little slower as if he really thought it would take a while before it sunk in, which just might be the case considering Dean just stared at him dumbly.

'Hunting,' Dean said slowly. 'With someone?' He should be glad. A part of him really wanted to be happy his brother not only kept going, but had someone to watch his back. Then again, another part of Dean didn't trust that his brother could find someone worthy of watching his back. Sam was too trusting. He had replaced Dean in four months. That... stung.

'I know what it sounds like,' Bobby admitted, and Dean could see the sympathy in the old hunter's eyes. The man knew exactly what Dean was feeling, damn him. Dean looked away. 'But I think this guy is good for Sam, much as it pains me to admit it.' Bobby sounded a little bitter and Dean looked back curiously. Who was this guy? Bobby clearly didn't like him, but had somehow reluctantly accepted him.

'Who is he?' Dean asked.

'His name's Eric, but I think you should find out the rest for yourself.' Now Dean was even more curious, and worried. 'He's a good hunter though, and he saved Sam's life.'

'You trust him?' Dean asked.

'I...,' Bobby seemed to really think about his answer, which Dean appreciated. 'I trust he'll do anything to keep Sam safe. Beyond that...' he shook his head. 'I don't know him well enough.' Dean nodded to this. He had to see his brother, now.

'Where are they?'

'A hunt over in Detroit,' Bobby said. 'If we go now we might get there before they move on.'

'You're coming?' Dean asked.

'You think I'm going to let you show up at your brother's motel room without someone to tell him you're not a shape-shifter or demon?' Bobby asked. 'Hell make you stupid, boy?' Dean rolled his eyes but accepted what Bobby was saying. The hunter called Sam, got the location so fast Dean didn't even have time to feel bad for not being able to talk to Sam right away, and got up to find a car that could take them all the way without breaking down.

XXX

The motel was a four story building that should have been condemned. The neon sign outside was missing the "o".

Sam heard the knock on the door, but it sounded so far away and he was so tired. He had spent the entire day at the library and then gone hunting after sunset with Eric. After ganking the ghost, they had gone back to the motel for a celebratory fuck. Now they were dosing.

'Someone is here,' Eric whispered. Another knock was heard, louder this time. 'They sound insistent.' Sam responded by tightening his grip around Eric, rubbing his stubbled chin into the smooth chest he was currently using as a pillow.

The sound of the lock being picked made both of them snap to attention. They jumped out of bed, got on boxers and t-shirts. Sam found the knife just as the door opened. The pair tensed, going into fighting positions. Sam almost sagged with relief when Bobby appeared.

'Jesus Christ, Bobby,' Sam said. 'Couldn't you have waited a little? You scared the hell-'

Bobby had stepped to the side, revealing Dean.

Their eyes met almost immediately and Sam was pretty sure his heart had stopped. Dean's eyes shone with the same emotions that were burning within Sam, but it had to be a lie. It had to.

That wasn't Dean. Dean was dead. Dead and in hell.

Sam reacted on instinct and lunged, knife raised.

Eric caught him before he'd even taken a step, arms tight around him, back to chest.

'He's not Dean!' Sam yelled, struggling. 'Eric, let me go! That's not Dean.'

'Perhaps we should let Bobby explain,' Eric said evenly. His eyes were intense and watching, though Sam couldn't see this. All he could see was Dean, whose eyes hadn't left Sam.

'It is him, Sam,' Bobby insisted, coming forward and forcing Sam to look at him. 'I did every test. Every one. It's him.' Sam tried to see the lie in Bobby's eyes, but there was none. His chest felt constricted by more than just Eric's arms. He breathed shakily, shaking in his head in uncertain denial.

'No,' he said, closing his eyes and leaning back into Eric for support. 'How? How could it be him?'

'We don't know,' Bobby said, glancing at Dean, who had come into the room. 'We thought maybe you had made some deal?' Sam's eyes snapped open at the suggestion. He shook his head, though he didn't admit he had tried several times right after. Bobby nodded his acceptance. Sam pushed against Eric's arms and the vampire let him go. He stumbled slightly forward, eyes once again only for Dean. His brother. Alive.

'It's me, Sam,' Dean said and he sounded exactly the same. They fell into each other's arms and Sam hugged his brother tightly, joy and relief coursing through him.

XXX

Dean hugged his brother, breathing in the familiar scents. The smell erased 40 years of hell in the blink of an eye, but only for a few seconds before Sam pulled back, looking him over as if to assure himself that Dean was really Dean.

That was when Dean noticed two things. First, that there was only one bed, not the usual two queens. Second, that the guy standing behind Sam with rather scarily intense eyes looked eerily familiar.

'Eric,' he said and the memories came pouring in: the vamp-club, the barn, the rescue. Sam arguing in the car afterwards about the vamp being an okay guy. The creature was as tall as Sam, only opposite; pale and white were Sam was tan and brown.

Sam turned to look at the vampire in question. Dean saw them exchange a glance, a meaningful glance that held a whole conversation.

'Why don't I go while you two catch up,' the vampire suggested. Bobby's eyes were darting in between the three others. Sam looked back at Dean, eyes full of... something. Dean felt completely off the map. His brain wasn't functioning correctly. He had been sent to some alternate universe, surely? There wasn't a vampire standing right there. Nope, it wasn't happening.

'Dean, I can explain,' Sam began, and Dean's brain switched back on.

'Stop.' He closed his eyes for a moment. 'Please tell me this is some sick joke, or dream or new form of psychological torture they've come up with.' Sam's face fell, eyes at full puppy-dog.

'Dean, if you'd just let me explain-' Jesus Christ, they weren't even dressed properly. Dean turned on his heel and stormed out. He ran down the stairs and out into the night, trying to get a breath in, but it was like his lungs were filled with glass.

A vampire. His brother and a vampire. Together. Hunting... and... Dean leaned against the banged up thing Bobby called a car, forehead down on the roof, the cold helping to centre him. But no matter how much he tried not to think about it, one word still branded itself behind his closed eyelids.

Fangbanger.

His brother was a fangbanger and the sickly pale giant vamp was using Sam. Dean straightened abruptly and went back inside, running up the stairs.

The door was still open from when Dean had stormed out. Inside Sam, Bobby and the vampire were clearly arguing. Bobby had his hands up in a placating manner. Sam and the vampire had put on trousers at least. They all turned as one when Dean appeared. He didn't hesitate. He walked straight inside the room, taking it in as the hunter he was. He spotted the knife Sam had discarded on the dressed, grabbed it and lunged.

'Dean, no!' Sam screamed. Dean swung the knife at the vampire, but it ducked and the knife went straight through air until it stabbed the wall. Bobby and Sam were on him in an instant, Bobby grabbing his waist while Sam wrenched the knife from him.

'Pull yourself together!' Bobby yelled. Sam went to the vampire, standing in front of it to shield the fucker from Dean.

'It's a vampire!' Dean yelled.

'I know that,' Bobby groused, causing Dean's struggles to lessen slightly. 'If you'd just calm down for a second then we can explain.'

'No, there's no way you can explain that,' Dean nodded towards his brother protecting the vampire. 'This is fucked up.' He stopped struggling altogether when he saw the look on Sam's face. Bobby still kept a hold on him.

'I will go,' the vampire announced. Sam turned immediately.

'No,' he said, voice pleading.

'It's better if I go,' the vampire pointed out. Its voice was low and rough with some emotion. Dean couldn't really find it in himself to care, as long as the vampire got the fuck out. He was getting a little sick to his stomach watching his brother staring at the vampire, standing way too close for comfort. 'I will return... later.' With that the thing moved so quickly Dean almost didn't see it. Sam stood motionless, staring at the blank space were the vampire had been. He turned back to Dean slowly and Bobby finally released him.

'Dean,' Sam said, voice heavy with meaning which his brother could usually decipher easily.

'You replaced me with a vampire?' Sam rolled his eyes heavenward in desperation.

'No, Dean,' he said tiredly. 'It's not about replacing you. I've missed you so much I-' He swallowed and looked down at his feet. A sign of guilt if there ever was one. 'Will you listen to the whole story? Please?'

'Fine,' Dean bit out, but only because he didn't really have any other option.

'Not to ruin the progress we've made,' Bobby cut in. 'But there is also the matter of how Dean got out of hell in the first place.'

'We know how,' Dean said sharply. 'What else could it be but a deal?'

'I didn't make a deal, Dean,' Sam said.

'Really?'

'Yes,' Sam insisted. 'Look, I tried, all right. I offered any deal the demon wanted, but it didn't want anything.'

'So, you gave up on me and decided to become a fangbanger.' The motel room fell silent at this. Sam's face pinched, his jaw clenching, but Dean couldn't take the word back, because it was true.

'Eric doesn't feed on me. He drinks True Blood,' Sam stated. Dean snorted.

'Yeah, I'm suppose to just believe that.'

'Dean,' Bobby said, a warning in his voice. Dean rounded on him.

'How long have you known?' he asked.

'A while,' Bobby admitted. 'But I believe Sam when he says Eric isn't feeding on him.' Dean shook his head and turned his gaze back to his brother, checking the stupid giant over for any signs. Sam stared back stonily, clearly aware of what Dean was looking for.

'Are you hooked on V?' Dean asked.

'No,' Sam answered at once. Dean sighed. He just wasn't sure if he could believe his brother. What would he have done if Sam had gone to hell and he had been the one stuck here, alone, for four months? Probably go on a hunting spree the likes of which had never been seen, getting himself killed at some point. He gazed sadly at Sam, wondering how his brother could have fallen so far. 'Will you listen to me now?' Sam asked.

'Yeah, sure, whatever.'

'I think I'll leave you two,' Bobby said, a little uncomfortable. 'I'll get a room and take a nap.' He disappeared quickly before the brothers could protest. Dean was left feeling more awkward than he ever had in the presence of his brother. Sam gestured toward the age-old table and two chairs in the corner by the tiny window.

'Can we sit?' Dean sure as hell didn't want to sit on the one bed, so he took a seat. He looked out the window and saw only the brick wall of the next building. Sam sat heavily in the chair.

'So,' Dean said. 'Talk.' Not explain, just talk, because nothing could possibly explain this. Sam sighed.

'Okay,' he said. 'I'll tell you everything. Can you not interrupt?' Dean nodded tightly, gaze trained on the brick wall. 'You know how I met Eric, so I'll skip that. What you don't know is that Eric started showing up after that-'

'Wait,' Dean interrupted, leaning forward in his chair. 'You were fangbanging before I was dead?'

'I'm not a fangbanger, Dean,' Sam growled. 'It's not about blood sucking for us.'

'Yeah, right.'

'Will you let me talk?' Sam asked, frustrated. Dean waved a hand, and rolled his eyes. Sam continued. 'Eric was the one who got me the information about where Lilith was, not Ruby.' This made Dean's eyebrows rise. 'He risked a lot to get that information. That's why he had to leave his business and hunt with me. He didn't have to do that, but he did.'

'Why?'

'Because...' It was Sam's turn to look out the window. 'We just... we got close. I couldn't help it. You can't control who you're attracted to.' Dean shifted in his seat at the word "attracted". He didn't want to think about that, and he hated how normal Sam sounded when he said it. 'And I have never. Tasted. His. Blood,' Sam stated very slowly. 'It's not about that,' he said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

'Christ, Sam,' Dean said tiredly, rubbing his face and then resting it in the palm of his hands, elbows on the table. 'You know how all this looks, right?'

'I know,' Sam said quietly. 'But...' he took a deep breath and Dean was pretty sure his brother was going to confess something big. 'I think I love him.' Dean went very still. Maybe if he went completely still he'd die and all this would turn out to be some sort of sick demon-induced dream. This had to be Alastair playing with him. He looked up at his brother, who had that stupid pleading look on his face, eyes glistening. Dean knew that was Sam's sincere face. He really wanted Dean to believe him. Sammy... his little Sammy was so far down the fangbanging hole he thought he was in love with the thing.

'You love him?' Dean repeated, the skepticism clear because he couldn't be bothered to conceal it.

'I think so,' Sam said slowly, eyes darting in that way he had when he wasn't entirely sure. 'He's- Dean, he saved me from Ruby,' he confessed in a rush.

'What?' Dean said sharply. He hadn't thought he'd have to heard that bitch's name again.

'Ruby was manipulating me,' Sam explained. 'Eric found me and sent her back to hell. If he hadn't I would have been dead at Lilith's feet by now.' Dean clenched his jaw at the image. God he hated Eric for doing what Dean had wanted to do himself.

'And now he's manipulating you right back,' he pointed out, hoping against all hope that Sam would see this, but his brother shook his head.

'No, it's not like that,' Sam insisted yet again. His eyes were still on the verge of tearing up. 'He doesn't ask anything of me. He lets me call the shots, even when he disagrees sometimes. I try to listen to his advice now. He's gotten good at hunting.' Sam was getting lost in his own story, but Dean couldn't bring himself to interrupt for some reason. Sam got a faraway look in his eyes. 'He never complains when I'm being an idiot, or that I cost him his business. He drinks True Blood even though I know he hates the stuff. He said he loved me, to Bobby of all people,' Sam huffed a laugh, staring down at the table. 'But I believe him. He's told me a million times that all I have to do is say the word and he'll be gone. He... he also promised me.' Dean didn't have to see Sam's face to know that a tear was almost imminent, but Sam clenched his hands and held himself together. 'He promised me that one day when I'm old and dying that he'll say his goodbyes.'

'He's lying,' Dean said, but it sounded hollow even to him. Sam looked up. He reached out and took one of Dean's hands in his.

'I missed you,' he said softly. Dean forced himself not to look away. 'At first all I could live for was revenge, with Ruby, and I didn't care if I died trying. I didn't care,' Sam repeated and Dean tried not to imagine his brother that far gone. 'With Eric, I still missed you every single fucking day, but at least things were... livable.' Dean pulled his hand away, going back to staring out the window. Sam sounded so sincere it was choking him.

'So you're happier with a vampire than a demon,' he surmised, voice tight and controlled. He heard Sam sigh. It was his "I'm never getting through my brother's thick head"-sigh. Dean decided to ignore it.

'I'm not going to argue that Eric is some saint vegan-vampire,' Sam said. 'He's a thousand years old. I don't think a vampire could stay vegan that long and survive.'

'So he's a pedophile too, nice,' Dean commented just out of spite now.

'Fine, I give up,' Sam said abruptly. Dean's eyes snapped back to him. 'I'm never going to convince you, so what's the point. You're back. That's what's important.'

'If we are ever going to be okay again,' Dean said, leaning forward slightly on his elbows. 'I can't work with a vampire. I just can't. So if you want us hunting together...' He shook his head and then looked Sam straight in the eye. 'If I tell you to dump your little vampire... friend,' he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 'Will you do it?' Sam's face pinched and his jaw worked visibly. Dean waited patiently.

'Yes,' Sam bit out. Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. 'If that's what it takes for us to go back to normal, then yes.'

'If we're going to find out what got me out of hell,' Dean pointed out. 'We can't have a third wheel, especially not one that wants to suck us dry.'

'Eric is not-'

'I don't care,' Dean said, rising from his seat. 'I get that you were in a bad place, Sam, I do, but that's no excuse.' Sam looked like he wanted to either yell or cry, Dean couldn't be sure. 'He's a vampire, a killer. Now, we may not officially hunt vampires anymore, but that won't stop me if I see him again, all right?' Sam stared up defiantly for a moment, but then nodded tightly. Dean nodded his acceptance. They had had their issues before; they'd get past this once Sam was off the V he probably was drinking.

'Good.'


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes**: Can I just mention again how awesome you guys are? Here's one reason why: When I was considering how Bobby and Dean would react respectively to Sam's liaison with Eric, I knew I had to decide whether or not they would argue the age-old "but you aren't gay!" In the end, however, I realised that since we know from the show that neither of them are homophobic, then the fact that Eric was a vampire would rank higher on the wtf-scale than his having a penis. I was well prepared to get comments along the line of "why aren't any of them commenting on the fact that Sam's gay now?" Me of little faith, it seems, because I haven't heard a word about it! Let's hope this means great minds think alike :) I'm just so glad I didn't have to write that conversation.

**Note on canon:** You know this story is AU, but from here on out things are probably only going to get more AU-y...

Sorry for the long note. Chapter time!

-:-

Chapter 12.

By morning Dean and Bobby wanted to hook up with Pamela to find out if she's heard anything from the other side on who might have busted Dean out of hell. Sam was reluctant to involve anyone else, and also reluctant to leave Detroit. He was pretty sure Dean knew why and couldn't really blame his brother for wanting to hit the road again as fast as possible.

Bobby finally got in touch with the psychic and they headed out; Dean back behind the wheel of the Impala.

'Man, it feels good to be back on the road,' Dean murmured as he steered his baby carefully. He had taken one look at the iPod on the dashboard and thrown it in the backseat. Sam hadn't been sure what that meant, but he felt he should point out it had been his idea and not Eric's. He had remained silent, though.

'Yeah, everything looks right with the world again,' Sam commented, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Dean was back. Dean was out of hell. Sam kept repeating these words in his head over and over. He should be happy, overjoyed even.

But he wasn't. He was miserable and he felt guilty for feeling that way, which made him feel even worse. He wanted to call Eric to check up on him, but the vampire was probably sleeping. Besides, what would Sam tell him? "Sorry, I skipped town on you the second my brother came back. No hard feelings about the whole dragging you into this and ruining your life, right?"

'So...' Dean said and Sam wondered for perhaps the tenth time that day when the awkwardness would disappear, if ever. 'Any interesting hunts while I was away?' Just like Dean to call a four month stay in hell "being away." He insisted he didn't remember anything, but Sam suspected he was lying.

'Not really,' Sam said. 'The demon population is still high after the hell-gate opened. We've done some research on Lilith, but it's been slow going. Eric-'

'I don't want to talk about the vampire,' Dean cut in harshly, startling Sam, who turned to stared at him, but Dean kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel.

'He's got contacts,' Sam insisted. Dean rolled his eyes.

'That's really not a point in his favour, Sam,' he said sarcastically.

'The vampires are much more organised than we ever imagined,' Sam carried on regardless. 'Officially, they don't associate with other supernatural creatures, but everyone knows there's a underground maze of contacts and information and favours being exchanged. In fact, if you really want to find out who got you out of hell, you should ask Eric.'

'Thanks, but I'll take a human psychic over vampire mafia boss any day,' Dean snapped.

'He's already involved,' Sam argued. 'And he's not a mafia boss. He _was_ a sheriff, but thanks to us he lost that-'

'Forget it Sam!' Dean yelled. Sam snapped his mouth shut, biting back his next argument. 'I told you it's him or me, and you made your choice. We are going to Pamela's and that's that.' Sam closed his eyes and turned his head away. It was just like normal, he reasoned, a little unfairly; Dean called the shots and Sam followed. Only now, he had tasted what a different sort of partnership was like. No, that really wasn't fair. Dean and him had been great together, a real team. He was being selfish.

They drove all day, Sam sleeping the first half. By sunset Bobby called and told them to turn off at the next motel. They'd reach Pam's tomorrow morning.

Dean wasn't letting Sam out of his sight, that much was clear. Sam didn't really mind. He had a feeling Eric would take the hint when he found them gone. Dean didn't go to sleep right away either. He lay on the bed and channel surfed, making comments on how much or how little progress the different TV shows had made.

Sam's phone rang while he was in the bathroom. He threw his toothbrush in the sink and rushed out. He knew Dean was watching him carefully as he fumbled with getting the thing out of his jacket pocket.

'Hello?' he said, having been too quick to check the caller-ID.

'Sam,' Eric's voice was as calm as ever, but Sam could detect a note of worry underneath. 'Where are you?' Sam sat down heavily on the bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he thought of what to say.

'We're on our way to a psychic to see if she knows anything about how Dean got out of hell.'

'I see, a smart move. I have already started investigating the matter,' Eric said, surprising Sam.

'Really? Have you found out anything?'

'Not much yet. I only had enough time to make a few calls last night to some very old friends. I thought I might visit a few nearby tonight...' The way Eric trailed off was more than enough for Sam to understand; Eric wanted a few answers of his own, and Sam wasn't ready to give them. He chanced a look at Dean, who was pointedly not looking now, telling him clearly to stop talking to the vampire.

'Listen,' Sam began, but he didn't know how to finish the sentence. He leaned forward on his left elbow, back to Dean.

'It's all right, Sam,' Eric said.

'No, it's not,' Sam said. 'We just...' Sam tried to think of some excuse. They needed some time alone, just the two of them again, to be brothers? They had to go after Lilith alone, as a matter of family pride? Three's a crowd? Eric would see through them all.

'Don't lie,' Eric said. 'It's never suited you. I'll know when you're in danger Sam. I always know.' The phone went silent and Sam removed it from his ear to check that Eric had really hung up. Call Ended.

'You didn't tell him,' Dean pointed out. Sam tensed. He couldn't look at his brother.

'I didn't need to,' he said. Dean didn't say anything more on the subject.

XXX

Sam left Dean sleeping. It felt eerily like a habit he was too weak to resist returning to. He took the car and drove to the nearest cemetery. Eric had sent him a text to meet him there when the sun was down and he could get away.

The cemetery was old, a speck of green in between the rest of the decaying neighbourhood. Sam strolled up through the gate, passing several rows of headstones as he made his way to the older mausoleums. He went round the back of one, looking around for the tall shadow he was sure would reveal Eric any moment.

Sure enough the vampire stepped into Sam's view from behind a nearby tree. Sam stayed perfectly still as Eric approached. The vampire came to a stop only a foot away. Sam resisted the urge to jump him.

'Hey,' Sam said. Both of them had a natural way of tilting their head slightly forward, a habit from always looking down at other people. This meant that when Sam and Eric looked at each other, they often found themselves staring through their eyelashes. Previously, Sam had sometimes found this amusing, and at other times arousing. Now, he felt Eric's stare like he had at their first meeting.

'You look... disturbed,' Eric commented. Sam shifted his weight and glanced off into the night. He always enjoyed the air in cemeteries; clean and pure, yet old with sweet decayed feeling. Now, it made him think of Eric lying in a grave.

'Pamela, the psychic,' Sam explained. 'She tried to see what had pulled Dean out, but it... it burned her eyes out.'

'I'm sorry,' Eric said. 'She was a friend?'

'Yeah. She's all right, though, the rest of her I mean.'

'It does confirm the rumours I have heard,' Eric commented. Sam's attention snapped back to him.

'What? How? What sort of rumours?' Sam asked in a rush.

'There are creatures you have not yet heard of,' Eric explained. 'Creatures that live like slugs at the bottom of a swamp. They are often ignored, yet they hear things. The rumour I heard was not easily extracted. An entity that has the power to pull someone out of hell scares even high-level demons.'

'What is it?'

'The rumour from hell itself is that an angel fought its way to Dean side and pulled him from the pit.' Sam's throat closed up and his mouth gaped uselessly for a few moments.

'An angel?' Eric nodded. 'Castiel,' Sam whispered. 'Pamela said its name was Castiel.'

'In that case I would check Christian literature for a reference. Angels are well-documented.'

'But, I didn't think they existed,' Sam said in wonder, remembering the ordeal with the priest.

'To be honest, neither did I,' Eric said uncomfortably. Sam studied the vampire closely, noting the red-rimmed eyes and dry skin. Sam knew Eric's skin better than anyone and could easily tell when the vampire was thirsty.

'When was the last time you fed?' Sam asked, reaching out to touch Eric's cheek to check the dryness. Eric flinched back and Sam's hand stopped in mid-air.

'I'll have a True Blood later,' he said gruffly. Sam let his hand fall. So, Eric understood why Sam had split town, and had made his own choice. Sam shouldn't be surprised. Why would Eric want to keep meeting like this; behind motel rooms and in cemeteries, just for a few stolen kisses? They had been through that already. They couldn't move backwards.

'I have some in the trunk still,' Sam pointed out. He could tell Eric wanted it immediately, which proved the vampire hadn't been feeding at all. 'Don't be stupid,' he argued. 'Just take some, please.' Eric nodded tightly and they made their way to the car. Sam popped the trunk and found a bottle in his duffle. Eric took it and gulped the contents down quickly. Sam's phone rang.

'Sam, where are you?' Dean demanded. Sam shot a look at Eric, but the vampire was busy getting out another bottle.

'I was hungry,' Sam lied. 'Went to get myself a burger.'

'In my car?' Dean sounded annoyed, and suspicious.

'Sorry, force of habit. What's happening?'

'You shouldn't lie to him,' Eric pointed out, loud enough for Sam to know the vampire wanted Dean to hear.

'Who was that?' Dean demanded. Sam sighed. Damn Eric and Dean. 'You snuck out to see the vampire? What is this, Twilight?'

'Eric knows what got you out of hell,' Sam spit out quick before Dean could yell at him more.

'Why the hell should I believe what a vampire has to say?'

'For Christ's sake, Dean,' Sam yelled in desperation. 'Will you just hear him out? Even if you think I'm just a fangbanger, Eric still has ways of getting information we can never have.' Silence met this rant and Sam wanted to punch Dean's precious car in lieu of not having Dean here to punch.

'Where are you?' Dean asked. Sam took a deep breath to calm down.

'At the cemetery.' Another long silence followed.

'Meet us at the bar we passed on the way into town, Rick's, remember it?'

'Yeah,' Sam sighed. Dean hung up.

'Well?' Eric prompted. Sam slammed the trunk shut and went to get in the driver's seat.

'He said to meet them at a bar. Come on.'

XXX

They found Dean and Bobby at the back of the bar. The place was the sort of place Dean preferred. Low-lighting, an old juke-box no one bothered to turn on in the corner, and clientele that came to drink and nothing more. Bobby nodded to them when the approached, while Dean just watched.

Sam and Eric sat down opposite the pair. A waitress happened to be passing and took Dean's empty glass before asking what the two new guys wanted. Dean ordered another beer. Bobby hadn't finished his.

'A beer for me too,' Sam ordered. She nodded and looked at Eric, who seemed to hesitate for a moment.

'I noticed you had True Blood,' he said, nodding towards the sign behind the bar. The waitress' eyes widened, but not in fear. Sam could already tell she was one of "those".

'Oh, yes, we have, just O negative, though. I've served vampires before,' she boasted. Dean looked like he was having a hard time staying silent.

'Excellent,' Eric murmured in that voice that made any man or woman shiver. Sam didn't like it when Eric used it on others, but he recognised how useful it was. 'If you could heat a bottle up for me I would be very grateful.' She giggled, covered it with her mouth in embarrassment, and hurried off. Eric turned to face Sam, who couldn't help but give him a look. 'What?' he asked.

'Bit over the top,' Sam told him. Eric just shrugged in response.

'Can we get this over with?' Dean snapped. Eric calmly turned his attention to the hunter.

'Your psychic friend's eyes burned out,' he began. 'And she mentioned a name, Castiel. This, combined with what I have heard from my sources, all points to one culprit.'

'Care to share the important part with the class?' Bobby prompted.

'An angel,' Eric revealed.

'Oh, you've got to be kidding me,' Dean muttered. He looked to Sam, waving his hand at Eric. 'This is what you wanted me to hear? Fine, I've heard it, it's bullshit, and we're done.' Just then the waitress came back with the drinks. She took her sweet time in putting the bottle of True Blood in front of Eric, leaning down properly to show off her cleavage. Sam tried not to let it bother him. It's not like it was the first time, or the hundredth time for that matter. Dean looked like he was just as annoyed about it as Sam, oddly enough. Once she was gone the three hunters all seem to watch as Eric took a swig of the stuff.

'Not as good as AB, which I seem to have developed a fondness for,' Eric commented softly. Dean's eyes widened.

'He's messing with you,' Sam cut in before Dean could start yelling. The Winchesters always knew each other's blood type. Sam's was AB negative. Eric knew that too of course, but he hadn't fed on Sam since that night when he was injured. 'Eric, you're not helping.' The vampire put the bottle down hard on the table and leaned forward towards Dean, who of course couldn't back down and so they stared at each other only a few inches apart. Sam really hoped Eric was done teasing for the night.

'Cross-check the name Castiel in Christian texts. I would bet my club on it, if I still had it, that you'll find it eventually. Your friend's eyes burned out because she looked at an angel's true form. I don't know any other creature who does that.'

'Why would a vampire believe in angels?' Dean asked suspiciously, his face a grimace of disgust from being so close to the vampire, but still not backing off.

'I didn't, not literally, but recent events have changed my perception of things.' Eric's eyes shone with deeper meaning and Dean leaned back in his seat, trying to make it look casual.

'Let's just see if we can find the name in angel lore,' Bobby reasoned. 'Before we do the summoning ritual.'

'Bobby,' Dean snapped in warning.

'Summoning ritual?' Sam question, looking between the two hunters. 'You were going to summon this thing without even knowing what it is?'

'We need to know,' Dean snapped.

'And if it burns your eyes out?' Sam argued. 'Or burns you away completely?'

'If it took the time to get me out of hell, it's not going to kill me first chance it gets,' Dean countered.

'A logical conclusion,' Eric commented. Dean raised a hand and pointed at the vampire.

'Stay out of this,' he ordered.

'No,' Sam declared. 'No, if you're doing something this reckless, then we need all the help we can get. Eric is staying.'

'Then I'm gone,' Dean said, eyes full of warning. Sam shook his head, looking away in disappointment. He would never get through to his brother.

'You're both idjits,' Bobby groused, causing the brothers to look up at him in surprise. 'Dean, doing the ritual without Sam is stupid. Sam, having a... person here that not all of us trust is also fairly stupid. You know better, boy. Hunting is a trust game, and I get that you know Eric, but we don't. That's just the way it is.' Sam's face fell at Bobby's infallible logic.

'I have no intention of sticking around,' Eric announced. 'I'm merely here to bring you this information. If you are involved with angels, I don't think you want a vampire anywhere near you.'

'Eric-' Sam began, but the vampire cut him off with a look.

'You'll chose your brother every time,' Eric said quietly, but all three hunters could easily hear him. Sam's jaw worked, but he remained silent. 'And that's predictable, and understandable. I will be keeping an ear on the situation, and probably hunting on my own as I've nothing better to do and it keeps me from staying in the same place for long.' Sam knew Eric didn't like to stay put, as the other old vampires would always be on the lookout for him. 'You can always call when all other options are exhausted.' Eric took one more large swig of the True Blood, dug into his pocket for some money, and got up. He looked down at Sam, seemed to want to say something, but changed his mind and moved towards the door. Sam watched him go with a numbness settling inside him. Eric glanced back once when he reached the door, but only for a moment. Sam could read the look easily. It said: "I'll always know when you're in danger." And then the vampire disappeared into the night faster than any of them could see.

Sam turned back to the table slowly, his eyes coming to rest on the table, but he wasn't really seeing anything. The silence stretched out for at least a minute.

'I'm sorry, Sam,' Bobby said sincerely. 'I know you cared about him.' Sam shook his head, but not to deny it.

'You'll get over it,' Dean said gruffly, the awkwardness apparent. Sam felt slightly better at that, oddly enough, because it showed that Dean actually felt a little guilty. That was something, and Sam clung to it for fear of tearing up like a girl if he didn't. He took a fortifying gulp of beer and put on his business face.

'What's this ritual about?' Bobby and Dean gave him both the same look that said "you sure you just want to sweep this under the rug?" but both also seemed to silently agree it was for the best, and so they began talking.


	13. Chapter 13

**Note**: once again I haven't watched the episode in quite some time, so I try not to quote them directly. This chapter does require the reader to be somewhat familiar with it.

-:-

_Chapter 13: Episode tie in 4.02. _

'Dean, please,' Sam said again, watching his brother's face intently. Dean kept his eyes on the road, speeding up to dangerous levels as they raced to get back to Bobby's. It was cloudy and the road was damp. Dean's jaw was set, his eyes steely. Sam knew it was going to be a struggle. He wished he didn't care about what his brother wanted, but once again Eric was proved right: Sam would choose Dean every time; stubborn bastard that he was. There were always moments, however, when Sam knew he had to go against his brother's wishes. He just really hoped this was one of those moments.

'I said no,' Dean bit out. 'We've never needed help before and we don't need it now.'

'Bobby might be dead already!' Sam argued.

'He's not,' Dean said, like he somehow knew, but Sam could see the slight twitch that indicated Dean was just as scared as he was. Hunters, good hunters, were dropping dead like flies and they had no badddie to blame it on. Whatever it was, they hadn't hunted it before.

'Whatever this thing is, it's going after hunters,' Sam argued. 'Maybe it'll ignore Eric.'

'You've been trying to convince me your vamp turned hunter ever since I got back, and now you're arguing he's not?'

'He is a vampire,' Sam said seriously, just in case Dean thought he was deluding himself or anyone. 'But if any _hunter_ has a chance of surviving this, it's him.'

'Well, which is it Sam?' Dean asked, voice filled with equal measures of tiredness and sarcasm. 'Hunter or vampire?' Me or him, again, was what he meant. Sam looked away, closing his eyes for a moment in frustration.

'Pull over at the next gas station.'

'We don't-'

'We need to take the time and prepare,' Sam snapped. 'We're not showing up at Bobby's without being fully stocked and fully functional.' He needed to regain his focus if he was going to help Bobby. Dean didn't say another word, but pulled over at the next station. Dean decided they needed to fill up anyway. Sam ignored him and went straight for the bathroom.

Once there, he didn't spent any time wondering what Dean was going to say or do, he just took out his phone and called, before he lost his nerve. He leaned against the stall wall that was next to the sink, trying to not look into the mirror for fear of what expression he was wearing.

'Sam?'

'Eric, where are you?' Sam wasted no time. 'How quickly can you get to Bobby's?'

'Why? What's happened?' Sam ignored the worry in Eric's voice and focused on the situation, pretending it was just another case.

'Something is killing hunters. In their homes. And now Bobby's not answering his phone.' The only contact between Sam and Eric since the vampire had walked out had been a text to Eric telling him he had been right about the angel. Castiel had shown himself after they had preformed the summoning ritual. He didn't seem to like Sam much, though he hadn't said so directly. Sam also suspected the angel had talked to Dean alone sometime, maybe in his dreams, but the brothers weren't talking about that.

'I'm on my way,' Eric's answer was short and to the point. Sam was about to say thanks and hang up so he could get back to the car, when he happened to glance into the bathroom mirror and see someone over his shoulder. Agent Henricksen, who had been dead for quite some time. He looked it too, his eyes sunken and his skin appearing almost dusty, like he had just risen from his grave, but he wasn't a zombie.

'Hello Sam,' the ghost said, for it had to be a ghost- it hadn't come through the door.

'You're dead,' Sam said stupidly, because seeing a ghost in a random gas station bathroom wasn't something even he did every day.

'What?' The phone was still pressed to Sam's ear, but he didn't really hear Eric's voice anymore. 'Sam? Who are you talking to?' Sam didn't have the chance to answer before Agent Henricksen attacked.

XXX

'Okay, I'm taking point,' Dean said tensely to the other two hunters. They were stocked up and ready to get the hell out of the panic room and perform the ritual to get rid of the Witnesses. His heart was already gearing up for the adrenaline rush of fighting their way through the ghosts to get to the fireplace in the library. Sam's face was lined with worry and determination, which meant he was actually fairly optimistic they would be able to do this, but there was another emotion flitting across little brother's face as well. Dean hated the fact that Sam's mind wasn't one hundred percent on the situation. And he could just guess where the hell it was sneaking off to at a time like this.

'I need to call Eric,' Sam admitted quietly when he'd had enough of Dean's stare.

'I get that you're worried, son,' Bobby cut in, shotgun in hand, 'but is now really the right time?'

'I called him at the gas station,' Sam confessed, his face going guilty, but not nearly enough for Dean.

'I knew it,' Dean couldn't help but mutter.

'He's on his way, I'm sure of it. I need to warn him not to come,' Sam insisted. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard from upstairs and all three hunter's lifted their gazes to the ceiling, waiting. It had been deathly quiet ever since they had retreated to the panic room.

'I think it's too late,' Dean murmured and opened the door. He took point and moved quietly yet swiftly to the stairs. They shot their way through the ghost that appeared there. Dean didn't want to think about their names and who they had been. If they did that they'd all go crazy, and that's exactly what the witnesses wanted: make you loose your focus for just one second, one hesitation due to guilt, and you were dead. They made sure the hallway was clear before they burst into the library and stopped short. Dean blinked, trying to process the scene in front of him.

A very pale man, a ghost without a doubt, was standing in the middle of the room by the table always overflowing with books and ritual stuff. He was wearing clothes that almost matched his greyish paleness. He had short, close cut dark hair and eyes to match. Dean could see tattoos coming up from the collar of the loose-fitting tunic. He looked like some cult fanatic about to keel over from the cool-aid.

In front of him Eric was kneeling. Not the kneeling you'd see in some movie set in the middle-ages, but collapsed on his knees in defeat, his head tilted up to the apparition. So much for the witnesses ignoring Eric. The three hunters were rendered speechless from the scene, and they couldn't help but keep their silence when the strange ghost started to speak. It was in a foreign language. If Dean had to guess he would have said Dutch or one of the Scandinavian ones.

XXX

'How could you leave me?' Godric said, eyes sad and filled with disappointment.

'You told me to, Master,' Eric tired to explain, but the words were stuck in his throat.

'You let me burn,' Godric accused. 'You did nothing to stop it. It's all your fault. If you had been a better child to me, I would have wanted to stay with you.'

'I know. I'm sorry.'

XXX

The ghost looked up at the hunters slowly, taking them in one by one. Dean saw its stare land on Sam and when next it spoke, it was speaking in English.

'You let me burn. You'd let me burn again, I'm sure, if it meant choosing this human over me.'

'I was ready to burn with you, Master,' Eric answered in English. Dean was pretty sure the vampire was barely aware that they were there. He was only answering in the language he was being spoken to. 'I begged you to let me meet the sun with you.'

'I had only that vile human for company in my dying hours,' the ghost spat harshly down at Eric. 'You failed me.'

'I'm sorry.'

'You can still make it up to me,' the ghost switched its tone fasted than Dean could blink, it's voice going from accusing to reassuring. 'Burn with me, walk with Death again as you were meant to.' It reached out, cupping Eric's face. It was actually Sam's sharp intake of breath that spurred Dean into action. He barged into the room, going straight for Eric, pushing the vamp roughly to the side while he fired off the shotgun straight into the ghost's chest. The last thing he saw was the ghost's enraged face, its hands up like claws before it disappeared.

Sam came running into the room now, going straight to Eric, who seemed well and truly dazed, his eyes even more red-rimmed than usual. Dean swallowed down the pity he felt choking him, but couldn't help but stare as Sam now cupped the pale face, trying to get the unseeing eyes to focus on him.

'Eric!' Sam shook the vamp a little and Eric finally appeared to see him.

'I'm fine,' he said, clearly lying, but Dean wasn't one to judge when it came to that kind of lie. The vampire quickly came to his feet, shrugging off Sam's help and causing Dean to go back to feeling nothing but hatred for the annoying giant vampire. 'What was that?'

'A ghost,' Sam explained. Eric shook his head, but Sam barrelled on. 'We think it's the Rising of the Witnesses. We've all encountered the ghosts of people we failed to save. It's a sign... of the apocalypse...'

Eric blinked several times and Dean secretly enjoyed the fact that he wasn't the only one having trouble with this concept.

'The end of days...' Eric murmured. 'Ragnarok,' he said with a strange accent.

'Yeah, only the Biblical kind,' Sam shrugged. Eric looked up and stared into Sam's face. Dean really, really hated how they were both so damn tall. It was like looking at a wall of... something. And the looks that were being exchanged didn't sit well with him either. 'Eric... who was that?' Sam asked softly, and Dean really wanted to punch Eric for making his brother put on the hurt puppy-dog face. Dean had made it his life's mission long ago to make sure Sam got that face as little as possible, and sure, he failed more times than he succeeded, but it was still his job.

'We can talk this out later,' Bobby cut through the bullshit as usual and went to business. 'You guys, make a circle and shoot anything that moves while I do this damn ritual before we all get killed.' That put a stop to puppy-dog looks and evasive shrugs, and put all of them into hunter-mode. Dean didn't even have the heart to complain that he was technically working with a vampire. Eric was efficient and quick as a fucking cat, a supernatural cat. They readied their weapons and started firing. With the extra gun and ammo Eric had brought, they might just have enough to last them too.

The pale ghost, which Dean now realised had to be a vampire, appeared again right in front of Eric. The vampire hesitated, giving the ghost a chance to speak, once again in English.

'You chose these mortals over me?' it asked, voice full of hurt.

'You are gone,' Eric insisted. 'You left me! You went into the sun!' Dean had to look away at the amount of betrayal that shone in Eric's eyes. The vampire's usually calm and rough voice was now lined with hysteria. Dean knew that kind of pain well enough to be unable to deny the sympathy he was feeling. He dreaded to look at Sam to see how his brother's was holding up. Just then Sam shot the ghost away. Eric didn't even seem to notice, he just stared at the empty space.

The other ghosts proved just as emotionally crippling for the rest of them. By the time Bobby had finally completed the ritual, there were frayed nerves all over. Dean put down his shotgun on the table and rubbed his face. What a night. He glanced over at Eric and Sam, watching the pair. The vampire sat down heavily on the decaying couch, his long legs sticking up like spider legs. It was just the way Sam sat on that couch.

'Was that... was that your... maker?' Sam asked quietly, but both Dean and Bobby heard him, though they tried to ignore it by starting to tidy up the mess the ritual had made. Dean started lining up the weapons and taking stock of how much ammo they had used; nearly all of it, he realised far too quickly, meaning he had nothing to keep him occupied.

'Yes,' Eric sighed. 'But let's not get into this now.'

'I'm sorry,' Sam said, so damn sincerely Dean would probably have wanted to punch Sam if he had been on the receiving end. He caught sight of Eric's fists tightening out of the corner of his eye. The vampire got up suddenly, stalking over towards the entrance hallway.

'I'm going to find a place to rest nearby,' he said curtly, not looking at Sam. 'I'll leave tomorrow.'

'What?' Sam followed the vampire towards the exit, grabbing the bare arm, white as snow. Dean decided he didn't like the way the vampire only wore a t-shirt. It looked out of place somehow. Just one more thing to add on the "stuff I don't like about vamps"-list he had going in his head. He also hated how easily Sam did that- just grab the arm of a creature that could tear his own out of its socket with barely a twitch. To Dean's surprise the vamp stopped, though he didn't turn to face Sam.

'Nothing has changed. I only came because I felt you were in danger.' _Felt?_ Dean's forehead furrowed. How the hell could- but the answer was obvious, wasn't it?

'Nothing-!' Sam sputtered. He glanced at Dean, obviously saw the look Dean was giving them, and his eyes widened. 'Dean,' he began, but Dean had decided he didn't want to hear another excuse or explanation.

'He can _feel_ when you're in danger?' he asked, trying to keep his anger under control. He knew it wouldn't do him any good. It was much better to play this calm and righteous. He knew this would work best on Sam, though every time he decided to play it calm it always ended up with him yelling regardless. It was just the effect Sam's occasional stupidity had on him.

'Dean, it's not-'

'So much for not being a fangbanger,' the words were spilling out before he could even think of stopping them. No going back now; Dean knew it. A part of him wanted to stop, to think, to assess, and even listen to Sam, but the big screaming voice in his brain said "knock some sense into the kid!" 'I assume that's how he can _feel_ you? He sucked your blood so much you're practically a vamp yourself!'

'That is not true,' Eric spoke up, finally turning back to face the room and Dean head on. His earlier sadness was gone. He looked like the scary guy Dean knew every vamp had within them. Vegan vamps were just deluding themselves. 'I admit freely that I have tasted Sam's blood-'

'Eric-' Sam tried to cut in.

'But only a few times. And Sam is never going to become a vampire.'

'A few times?' Dean asked, shaking his head at the ridiculous expression. A few times was somehow suppose to make it all better? 'I'm sorry, you only sucked my brother's blood _a few times_, well, that's okay then.'

'Dean-' Bobby tried to cut in this time.

'Don't tell me you're buying this shit?' Dean asked the man. Bobby's look told him everything. 'Well, fuck, I'm the only sane person left.' He put a hand to his head, sure something had to be leaking out because he was pretty certain he was loosing his mind.

'The first time, I was curious,' Eric continued as if he was just describing a trip he had taken somewhere. 'And the few times after that it was to satisfy that curiosity. I quickly realised, however, that your brother's blood holds demon blood.' Everyone went silent at this. Dean looked at the vampire, studying the expressionless face. Sam was standing slightly to the left and behind the vamp, face pinched in guilt and awkwardness. Dean had never considered that a vampire could taste such a thing.

'And what? You don't like demon blood? I thought you were practically related to the bastards.'

'Hardly,' Eric said, a note of warning in his voice that time. 'Vampires despise hellspawn, almost as much as werewolves.'

'Huh,' was Dean's only comment to that.

'The sun will rise soon,' Eric announced. 'I must go.'

'Wait just a minute,' Dean said, still trying to wrap his brain around everything. He had to know one more thing. 'You hate demon blood, which means you don't, what? Like the taste of Sam?' The effect his question had on Sam would have been hilarious in any other situation. From the look on Sam's face it was like Dean had asked if Eric had taken his virginity or something equally embarrassing.

'It's different, powerful... dangerous,' Eric explained. 'I must admit that I do not like the effect it has.'

'So... why are you still here?' Dean asked, genuinely bewildered. For the life of him he couldn't say the vampire was lying about the blood, so that left one annoying question: why was the vampire still hanging around? He didn't want to change Sam, he didn't want to drink him... Dean's world was ever so slowly turning upside down. He was at that moment deadly afraid he was going to fall off the end of it, while everyone else waved goodbye. The fact that Eric looked at him like it was the stupidest question he had ever heard didn't help much.

'Because I care for your brother,' he said pointedly and then turned and left in his supernaturally quick way, leaving the three hunters in an awkward silence.

'Now do you get it, idjit?' Bobby finally asked, leaving with a tired shake of his head to get them a few beers. Dean looked at Sam, trying to gauge his brother's mood, but Sam just stared at him, maybe a little hopeful.

'This is...' Dean began, but he didn't know how to finish that sentence anymore. Then he thought of something: '...really fucked up.'

'I know,' Sam at least acknowledged. Just then Castiel appeared, bringing with him a whole new level of fucked up, something Dean hadn't really thought possible.

XXX

After Castiel explained about the 66 seals and confirmed the apocalypse really was scheduled for sometime in the near future unless they did something, he looked at Sam with that strange way he had. Half confused, half accusing.

'I know the vampire was here,' he said. Sam visibly swallowed. 'In any other circumstance, I would tell you to keep away from such a creature, but,' Castiel paused, a hint of what Dean could swear was discomfort crossing his features. 'Because of the service he rendered you, I won't destroy him.' Sam shifted his weight in that way he did when he felt cornered. Dean almost stepped in before Sammy did something stupid, but then his little brother surprised him.

'Thanks,' Sam said tightly.

'If you fall back to bad habits, however, we will not wait for your vampire to help you again,' the angel warned cryptically, though Castiel himself didn't seem to understand that he was being so. Dean was confusion itself and becoming really annoyed at feeling that way constantly.

'Got it,' Sam bit out, eyes downcast. Castiel nodded and disappeared with a flutter of invisible wings. The room felt more empty than it ever had, the space between the brothers seeming too far for any sound to cross. Dean stared at Sam, willing him to talk.

'What service was he talking about?' he finally had to ask.

'He saved my life,' Sam said. Dean wasn't as good at telling if Sam was lying as he would have liked, but he'd bet his soul this time.

'Bullshit,' he called Sam's bluff. Bobby watched silently, and Dean felt as if the old hunter was finally on his side. Sam's flittering gaze told of his guilt.

'Can we just leave it, please? I'm tired, I need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.' Sam didn't even give Dean the chance to argue; he just strode out of the room. Dean and Bobby listened to the giant feet stamping up the stairs. Dean sighed and briefly wondered when was the last time he hadn't felt just a little bit tired about it all. He couldn't remember.

'What do you think?' he asked Bobby for lack of a better thing to do. He wasn't going to go to bed before he was sure Sam was pretending to sleep.

'I don't know, but if an angel is willing to let a vampire live because of something he did for Sam, then I'm thinking we should let the vamp stick around.' Bobby left it at that and went to bed himself, leaving Dean standing in the library nonplussed. He hadn't thought about it that way. It made the other aspect of the mystery take centre stage, however: what the hell had Sam's bad habit been? He briefly considered calling Castiel back to ask the angel, but figured the guy probably didn't like being nagged. It would just have to wait till morning.


	14. Chapter 14

**Note**: hope you enjoy it!

-:-

_Chapter 14. _

Sam had gotten pretty good at sneaking out while Dean slept. He was a bit out of practice, and the stairs at Bobby's were a new challenge, but he managed to get down them with the minimal of sound. He checked in as he passed what Bobby used as a bedroom, a room through the kitchen that must once had been a dining room. The hunter was sleeping peacefully on a fold-out couch that had probably not been folded in again for several decades. Sam slipped outside, the afternoon air feeling warm and oppressive even though it was fairly cool. Sam had gotten used to nights and cold. He preferred it these days. Even though he knew he should still be out cold, with hunting all night and the overload of information from Castiel, he knew he couldn't sleep more.

The cars loomed like ancient monuments as he passed them. Coffins for dreams and freedom, Sam thought with a snort at his poetically inclined self. He kept his eyes on the ground as he reached the woods beyond. When he was a good distance from the yard he found a comfy-looking tree and sat down.

He took out his phone and stared at the display. He pressed two for Eric, but hesitated on the call button.

It was pointless. Eric was no doubt sleeping, yet Sam called. It rang for a long time. Sam listened to the tone without really hearing it, letting its steady rhythm lull him into a waking sleep. His body was awake, but his mind was completely shut off.

'Sam?' The hunter almost jumped out of his skin at his name. Eric's voice sounded tired and perhaps a little grumpy.

'Eric, you're awake?' he asked in astonishment. He looked around the forest, noting that yes, the sun was still streaming through the branches and he hadn't been sitting there for hours.

'Yes, you woke me,' Eric explained calmly.

'Where are you?'

'In a mausoleum,' Eric said. Sam waited for more information, but none was forthcoming.

'Are you...' but Sam didn't really need to ask about Eric. Eric was fine. He was always fine. He had promised to leave the moment Sam said so, or Dean in his place as it turned out, without an argument, without a fight, just like that. Suddenly, Sam felt angry. 'You're heading off tonight I suppose?' he asked.

'That was the plan,' Eric replied. Sam's swallowed, his throat feeling dry.

'Well, have a nice life, I guess, or eternity, or... however long the world lasts,' Sam's voice got progressively quieter. 'What happens to vampires when the world ends?'

'I don't know.' Sam thought perhaps Eric did sound a little bit scared.

'Castiel showed up after you left,' Sam suddenly supplied. Eric didn't answer. 'He said the Witnesses are one of sixty-six seals that need to be broken.'

'Let me guess,' Eric said. 'Lilith?'

'Yeah... we think so...' Sam huffed a breath when Eric didn't say anything. 'Do you want to know what happens when the seals break?' he asked irritably.

'I'm not sure I do,' Eric replied. 'But feel free to tell me if you want.'

'Lucifer-... The _devil_ gets out.'

'He is a major player in the Apocalypse, from what I remember,' Eric said, as if they were discussing a play he'd planned to see at a theatre, or a game.

'Jesus Christ, how can you be so casual about this!' Sam cried, at the end of his rope. He was tired of Eric's calmness. Before, his steady presence had been his rock, his anchor in his own storm, but now he felt like he needed someone on the boat with him, feeling a little bit crazy too.

'I don't know how else to be.'

Suddenly, Sam heard it, and he understood. He raised his other hand and placed it over his face, closing his eyes. Eric didn't care about the Apocalypse. He has seen his Maker last night. He had been prepared to go into the sun. Sam knew then, that Eric loved his Maker the way Sam loved Dean. He was pretty sure that if Dean hadn't blown the vampire ghost away, Eric would have chosen to go with him, would have let himself be killed like all the other hunters the Witnesses had gotten to, without a fight.

What a pair they made, he thought disparagingly. They loved each other, but they were both second to each other. To the end. He also knew, however, that Eric's Maker was gone, and that he, Sam the mortal, was here.

'Come back,' Sam said, pleading softly. 'I need you.' He didn't ask about the events of last night. Eric wouldn't want to talk over the phone while he lay in a grave somewhere. 'Castiel... he said some things about me, about what I did with Ruby.'

'He knew?' Eric asked. Sam took a deep breath. If he could convince Eric that he was needed, maybe he would feel a little less hopeless about his Maker.

'Yeah, he knew everything,' Sam admitted. He found himself studying his knees, one hand picking at a rip in his jeans like an errant school boy who didn't want to look the principle in the eye. 'He knew I drank demon blood, and that you saved me from it. He said... he said that he would let you live because of that. If I ever start drinking it again, though, he'd stop me.' There was a long pause.

'But you won't drink it again,' Eric stated with certainty. Sam sighed.

'I don't want to drink it,' he said seriously. 'When I think about what Ruby was doing to me, at how stupid I was to fall for it, I never want to feel that way again, but I also think about the power. How strong I was. What if I'm tempted? What if you're not here to knock sense into me?' _What if I'm weak?_ Maybe this wasn't about convincing Eric anymore.

'You won't,' Eric said. 'I have every faith in you.'

'You have too much faith in me,' Sam insisted. 'Christ, if Dean knew he'd fucking lock me up and throw away the key, and maybe he'd be right to.'

'Maybe if you tell him, explain your reasoning-'

'Reasoning?' Sam exclaimed. 'I let Ruby feed me bullshit for a month and then I took up with a vampire-!' He sighed and rubbed his face. 'I can't tell him. He'd be so fucking disappointed. He wouldn't care about my reasoning.' He snorted. 'Not that I had much reasoning. I was messed up, that's all there is too it.'

'You know that's a lie.'

'Why didn't you go into the sun?' Sam asked suddenly. He held his breath when he realised what he'd asked. He was sure Eric would hang up. He waited for what seemed like ages. Finally, Eric's soft voice drifted into his ear.

'Godric asked me not to.'

'Godric was your Maker...?'

'Yes. He saved me. He asked me to walk with death, to be immortal, and I said yes. We drifted apart about half a century ago.' That wasn't very long for a vampire like Eric, Sam realised. For Eric it must have been as if they'd just parted. Sam tried not to feel any jealousy, but it was difficult. 'Let's talk about this another time,' Eric said. 'Talk to your brother. If you have any information about these seals, I'll help you keep them intact.' Before Sam could even answer, Eric hung up.

He stuffed the phone into his jacket pocket, sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He turned to go back inside, walking with a shuffling gait and staring at the ground as he walked.

Inside he found Dean and Bobby seated around the kitchen table, eating heated up pizza. Sam sat down and grabbed a slice for himself, ignoring Dean's stare. He wasn't in the mood.

'So, you ready to talk?' Dean asked. Bobby cleared his throat. Sam chewed. Dean leaned back in his chair. 'Have a nice stroll at least?'

'I called Eric to check up on him. I didn't think he'd answer, but he did.' Sam didn't care enough to lie, he realised. Eric wasn't coming back. He would keep calling, however... until Dean asked him to stop that too. The thought filled him with deep unease.

'Hiding out in the nearest cemetery?'

'He'll be gone by nightfall,' Sam mumbled between bites. He could feel Dean and Bobby exchange stares. He wasn't sure which one of them won the contest, but it was Bobby who next spoke, voice soft and convincing.

'Sam, what did Castiel mean by bad habits?'

'It doesn't matter,' Sam told them, throwing his slice down. He had lost his appetite. 'I won't be falling into bad habits again.'

'You sure about that?' Dean asked. Sam rose abruptly. He stared down at Dean, who stared right back.

'What happened while you were in hell is in the past,' Sam said. 'It's over and I'm never going down that road again.'

'It was Ruby, wasn't it?' Dean asked, rising as well and facing off with his brother. 'She convinced you to use your freaky powers, didn't she?' Dean's voice rose and Sam felt his whole body tensing. He would control his emotions.

'I'm not doing it anymore. She's gone,' Sam said. 'And I'm not talking about it.' Dean shook his head, his face lined with the now familiar disgust Sam was sick to death of. 'You were in hell, Dean-'

'You promised me you wouldn't go down that road!' Dean yelled.

'I thought it was the only way to kill Lilith!' Sam yelled right back, though his voice was softer due to the tiredness and desperation he couldn't hide. 'It was stupid and the biggest mistake of my _life_, okay? Is that what you want me to say? You want an apology? Fine, I'm sorry. I'm never listening to a demon ever again. I learned my lesson!' Sam took a deep breath and stopped himself before he yelled something he'd really regret, or reveal something. Dean's jaw was working, but he looked like he was thinking hard. Sam was just about to storm out.

'Thanks to Eric,' Dean mumbled, almost to himself. Sam blinked.

'Yeah- I mean,' he shrugged. 'He killed her. He saw what she was doing to me, manipulating me. I've told you this.'

'I know, I guess I just wasn't listening.'

'Why are you now? Listening?'

'Because,' Dean said seriously, eyes almost sad. 'An angel told you he'd stop you if you ever used your powers again. If Eric hadn't already stopped you, then maybe you'd still be using them now and...' Sam swallowed at the thought. Everyone fell silent for a moment.

'I'm not going to,' Sam said softly.

'I believe you,' Dean said. Sam's shoulders lowered slightly. He nodded.

'I'm going to have a shower,' he decided and left.

XXX

'You finally wising up?' Bobby asked as Dean retook his seat. The younger hunter gave him an exasperated look, but nodded nonetheless.

'I don't think I have a choice,' Dean said. They sat for a moment, staring at the cooling pizza.

'You afraid Sam'll leave?'

'No,' Dean said at once. 'And that's the problem.' At Bobby's confused look, Dean elaborated. 'He's miserable without the vamp, and if a blood-sucking supernatural creature is what he needs to keep him away from demons-? Well, then I guess I'm stuck with the bastard.'

'You're an idjit,' Bobby stated. Dean raised an eyebrow. 'Sam's learned his lesson. I can tell by just looking at the kid. He's miserable without Eric, though, that much is true, but you know as well as I he'd give Eric up if you told him.'

A year ago, hell four months ago in earth time, he would have accepted that about Sam as a given, a fact about life that their years hunting together had set in stone. Why then did the thought now fill him with nagging guilt?

'So... does that mean you think we should work with the vamp?' Dean asked.

'You can start calling him Eric,' Bobby said, and that really answered the question so Dean went back to his now cold pizza.

XXX

'Call him,' Dean ordered when Sam came back from his shower. 'When the sun goes down,' he added. Sam opened his mouth to question his brother, but Dean exited quick, muttering about working on the car. And that, Sam realised, was Dean's way of giving permission. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Note**: Sorry for the longer than usual wait, but there is a reason for this! I am planning the end of this story and had to basically re-write this whole chapter after I figured some things out. Originally, I was toying with the idea of re-writing The Monster episode with Eric (Dracula and Eric meeting, how cool would that have been, right?) but then I realised I was doing exactly what I had promised myself I wouldn't do: re-write episodes with just an added character. I hate it when fics do this, and I have already come dangerously close several times in this story, so now I say: canon just got shot out the window! Hope you enjoy!

_-:-_

Chapter 15.

Sam had called and told Eric that they could work together. The vampire's response had been short and to the point. He was going to meet them at whatever motel they ended up in on their way to a new case.

Sam felt jittery all day, and Dean wasn't much better. The two brothers had a lot on their minds, not even counting the Apocalypse. The drive was quiet, though Sam couldn't decide if it was tense or relaxed. Dean looked a bit frayed around the edges, and Sam suspected it wasn't all because of Eric or Ruby or Angels. Sometimes, Sam had noticed, Dean would go into the bathroom just to splash water in his face. Sam had spied him once, just staring at himself in the mirror.

Sam wondered what Dean saw then, but hadn't gotten up the courage to ask yet.

They were headed to a small town in western Pennsylvania, and both of them pretended to be focused on the case. There were clear demon signs, which Sam didn't want to think about.

They stopped at a roadside motel, not even halfway there but exhausted. Dean went straight to bed, not even bothering to pretend he was avoiding the vampire's arrival.

Sam took a walk outside, feeling strangely nostalgic as he rounded the long, flat building to find a nice little lawn once used to play back when these kinds of places got actual tourists on their way somewhere. He wandered aimlessly among the rusty swings and slide, rounding the sandbox that was half filled with gravel. The night was cold, the way he liked it. He smelt the road even back here, and gazed silently at the small bathroom windows that lined the back wall of the motel.

'What did you do?'

Sam spun at the sound of Eric's voice. The vampire was walking across the grass, voice almost teasing. Sam's chest expanded as he took a deep breath. The moment Eric was close enough he reached out, grabbed the pale neck harshly and pulled the vamp into a bruising kiss.

XXX

Dean waited for Sam to leave before he got up and followed.

He knew he shouldn't. He should just leave Sam and Eric to do... whatever it was they did together, but a part of him was too curious to just sleep through another meeting between his brother and the vampire. Who knew how many clandestine rendezvous they'd had- not that Dean used that phrase to describe the meetings, but he figured it was the sort of thing a thousand-year-old vampire might say.

The thought of the vamp- Eric, with Sam made his shudder with both disgust and fear. The more he saw of the vam-Eric the more he had to admit that Sam wasn't in any real danger. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. If Dean had come back from hell to find Sam in the arms of a demon instead...

He sneaked a glance around the corner, spotting Sam immediately despite the dark night. The tall figure was kicking the ground as he walked. Dean retreated out of sight when he saw Eric emerging from the far side of the motel, making his way across the grass quickly. Dean held his breath and listened.

'What did you do?' he heard Eric ask. He sounded almost happy. Dean grimaced at the thought and snuck another peak, and then immediately wished he hadn't. Now that he had, however, he couldn't look away. It was like a car crash. The two were devouring each other, like they hadn't seen each other in months. Eric hugged Sam to him, who was clutching Eric's head so hard it had to be painful- but then, Dean realised, vamps could probably take a few more punches than the average mortal.

He had seen Sam kiss chicks before. He had seen the way Sam had looked at Jess during those few moments Dean had seen them in the same room when one of them wasn't burning. He watched with a sinking feeling in his chest as Sam pulled away from Eric and just looked for a moment. Eric kept a tight hold of Sam. Dean knew that look, even in the dark. It was like it was producing its own light, though Dean would kill anyone who accused him of thinking something so gay.

'Sorry,' Sam said with a short breathless laugh. 'What did you say?'

'I asked what did you do,' Eric repeated. 'To make your brother change his mind.' Sam's head tilted forward a little, out of shyness or embarrassment, Dean couldn't tell.

'I think he just finally realised that without you he wouldn't have a brother, or at least, not one he recognised.'

'So there is a head on his shoulders after all,' Eric quipped. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent. Sam gave that same short laugh he always did when he couldn't help but agree. Then the two fell silent. Sam played with the collar of Eric's leather jacket- which Dean thought looked really gay, but not in a homophobic way, he told himself.

'So, you wanna try hunting with us?' Sam asked.

'Of course,' Eric replied. Sam looked up.

'You sure?'

'Why wouldn't I be?' Sam shrugged at the question, dislodging Eric's hold. Dean could tell the cold that came between them the moment they were separated by even just a few inches. Clearly, they had issues. Maybe they would fight and slip up? he thought hopefully, and then felt guilty. Sam moved further away, turning and walking a few feet off. Eric watched him silently.

'Have you ever made another vampire?' Sam asked. Dean's heart sped up. Why was Sam asking that?

'Yes,' Eric replied evenly. Sam glanced back at him.

'And you've left them?' Eric tilted his head to the side. 'I mean,' Sam continued, trying to explain. 'They must care about you just as much as you cared about Godric, and you about them. Don't you miss them?' Godric must have been the name of the ghost vampire, Dean concluded.

'I care very deeply about my child,' Eric replied. 'But every Maker-Child relationship is different.'

'Why did you and Godric split up?' Sam asked. Eric looked away. Dean could spot avoidance a mile off.

'Let's talk about this another time.'

'That's what you said on the phone,' Sam pointed out. He returned to stand in front of Eric, but the vamp wasn't looking at him. 'Talk to me.'

'What is it with you Americans and talking?' Eric suddenly snapped. Dean tensed. He did not like vampires, and he liked angry vampires even less. Sam didn't seem deterred at all. 'All you want to do is talk, to anyone who will listen. I swear I've never met another people so fond of discussing their feelings.'

'You're avoiding the subject,' Sam pointed out, a little spitefully.

'The subject is in the past, where it belongs,' Eric declared before turning and walking away. Sam was quick, though, and grabbed an arm. Eric stopped even though Dean knew the vamp never had to do anything because someone forced him to. Clearly, he wanted to be stopped.

'You're grieving,' Sam said, in his understanding, pleading, puppy-dog on full, kind of way. 'Believe me, I know how that is.'

'Ah, but the difference between you and me is that your brother came back,' Eric said. 'Godric will never return.'

'You think he's in hell?'

'No,' Eric answered at once. 'If vampires go somewhere after this life, it is not to hell.'

'You helped me through the worst few months of my life,' Sam told him. 'Why can't I help you?'

'Because I do not require help,' Eric said. He finally turned back to Sam. He slowly brought his hands up and cupped Sam's face. From his perspective, Dean mused how normal they looked, both the same height. Usually, Sam would stick out like a sore thumb, but with Eric he almost looked smaller, but that was probably just because Sam slouched, a lot.

'Godric is gone,' Eric said, almost too softly for Dean to hear. 'I have no plans to join him if that's what worries you.' He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to Sam. Dean wanted to look away, but it was actually quite a sweet kiss, loathed though he was to admit it. He decided to leave the pair and returned to the motel room, a little sick to his stomach.

XXX

Sam allowed Eric to kiss away the conversation. He knew the vampire pretty well now, despite the long unknown past. Eric liked to appear calm and unaffected. Sam would just have to wait for the opportune moment to break through some of those shields. With a brother like Dean, Sam was an expert in the field.

'Maybe we should get our own room,' Eric whispered. Sam's smile got in the way of the next kiss. He pushed at Eric's chest.

'I better warn my brother. I do need a few hours sleep if we're gonna reach the next case tomorrow.'

'Your brother can drive the first shift,' Eric pointed out. Sam ignored him and went back to the motel room, noting Eric went straight for the reception. Dean was sitting on the bed when Sam entered, elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. Sam frowned at the sight. Dean looked up when Sam closed the door.

'Eric made it here okay?' Dean asked. Sam's frown deepened.

'Eh, yeah,' he said. 'You okay with that?'

'Yeah, course,' Dean said with his "nothing can bother me" shrug.

'He's getting a room,' Sam felt compelled to mention. He could see Dean's Adam's apple working.

'Right...'

'We have some stuff to talk about,' Sam explained, though it sounded like a lie even to his ears. 'So, I'm gonna.' He turned to leave.

'Just-,' Dean sighed, 'Just tell me you know what you're doing.'

'I do,' Sam said softly before leaving quietly. Dean nodded to no one in particular.

Sam found Eric standing outside a room a few doors down, leaning up against the wall like the nordic version of James Dean; immortal, cool and blond. He had the collar of his leather jacket up, and was giving Sam the eye.

'If you ask "come here often,"' Sam warned, 'I'm turning around.' Eric just opened the door and gestured for Sam to entered, who could do nothing but do as he was told. The room was identical to the one he had just left, only with one bed. It was covered in a disgusting mauve wallpaper, and the furniture looked like it had been stolen off of the set of Dallas.

Sam didn't really care though, as Eric's arms surrounded him from behind and soft, cold lips began kissing his neck. His jacket was pulled off, and then Eric worked quickly on the buttons of his plaid shirt. Sam sighed in pleasure. When the shirt was off, Eric spun him around and pulled off the t-shirt underneath, locking their lips together the moment it was gone. Sam was steered backwards until he hit the bed and allowed himself to fall backwards.

He watched as Eric removed his own clothes, matching the movements once the vampire had gotten to his trousers. Once naked, Sam scooted up higher on the bed as Eric got down on it, hands and knees, and crawled up.

'I hope the walls are thin,' Eric teased as he dipped his head to kiss Sam's stomach.

'I don't,' Sam protested, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as Eric set to work.

'Perhaps I should jag you.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Sam laughed breathlessly.

'Don't you trust me?'

'Yes,' Sam said, eyes still closed, but smiling. He reached down and put his fingers through Eric's hair, pulling hard to emphasise his point. Eric didn't answer verbally. They didn't make very much noise that night, but they were certainly not quiet.

XXX

Sam and Dean nodded their thanks to the bar maid for their beers and took a sip each, probably to put off the inevitable. They had talked about the case all day, and now they were waiting for the last member of the party to show up now that night had fallen. Dean had been in a fairly good mood, enjoying the atmosphere of the bar, and the nice bar maid, Janice. Sam concentrated on the demon omens around town, though now that they were here, things looked a little weird. The disappearances could be demons, but some of them had turned up dead, and drained. That smelled of vampires, and the police were on alert so the Winchester had played the FBI card. Maybe Eric could shed some light on it; if anyone could tell vampire signs from demonic ones, surely it was a vampire?

'So,' Dean said, putting down his beer. He looked good in his suit as usual, while Sam felt out of place. 'How long does Eric usually take to catch up?'

'Not long, usually,' Sam said. 'He's an early riser.' Dean's eyebrows rose, but he didn't comment. Sam perked up when he saw the tall blond enter. For a town of German decent, the arian vampire still stood out. The vampire glided effortlessly through the crowd to their table and sat down next to Sam, just a smidgen closer than a friend would. Sam pretended not to notice, but Dean's narrowed eyes said it all.

'You must feel right at home,' Dean commented instead, gesturing to the bar and general decor of imported beer logos and pictures of mountains and yodelers.

'I am Swedish, not German,' Eric practically growled, his eyes glancing around the place in suspicious. Sam noticed he was breathing a little heavily through the nose. 'I do not like Germans.'

'Why not?' Dean asked. Sam gave him a "duh" look, but sometimes Dean just plain forgot to think and he just returned Sam's stare with a shrug. Or, and this was probably more likely, he was just doing it to annoy Eric, who's jaw was working visibly.

'Read a history book,' he bit out. 'It's still rather fresh in my mind compared to mortals.' He breathed in through his nose again, and Sam realised he was smelling the place.

'What is it?'

'Nothing,' Eric replied tersely. At Sam's look he sighed. 'I don't smell any creatures. I was hoping the drained cattle would be from a creature, but if vampires are doing it, we have no place here.'

'I'm not letting the cops handle this,' Dean said. 'Besides, I think it's demonic. The weather signs clearly rule out vampires.' Sam nodded in agreement, while Eric shrugged uncomfortably.

'So what is the plan?' Sam asked.

'I don't know about you two, but I'm gonna interview Judith a bit more,' Dean said with a smirk and rose, beer in hand.

'It was Janice,' Sam pointed out.

'Thanks, man, good to know.'

'Dude, we're on a case,' he reminded his brother.

'Hey, you get to,' Dean nodded towards Eric, 'have fun with your vamp. Besides, I have a lot of catching up to do after my time out downstairs.' He got up and meandered towards the bar where the chick was pouring beers. Sam watched as his brother leaned against the bar, and by the look on the girl's face she was eating up his charm. Eric shifted over to Dean's side of the table.

'I do not like it here,' he said. Sam frowned.

'We interviewed a few witnesses, and as far as we can determine the victims don't have anything in common,' Sam told him. 'We've got no more leads. They could be being taken anywhere in town.'

'If there are vampires here, I should not be here,' Eric said, 'and if there a demons here, none of us should be here.' Sam frowned.

'You mean me. I shouldn't be here.' Eric looked at him, eyes intense. The stare became prolonged and Sam knew it had been a careless comment. Eric trusted him. As the vampire continued to stare, Sam felt edgy.

'We could... go back to the motel,' Sam suggested casually. He glanced over at Dean, still working the bar maid. 'Dean's gonna be busy for a while.' Eric didn't even answer, he just rose and Sam followed instantly. The way Sam saw it, they had a bit of catching up to do themselves.

They walked through the small town quickly, stopping every few feet to steal kisses. Even though he was on a case, Sam felt a little giddy with having Eric so close and Dean actually being his snarky self, talking up with the ladies. Maybe things could be like this for... for as long as the world lasted. It was a hopeful thought, so Sam decided he better not pay too much attention to it.

The motel lay a few minutes walk outside the town square. They had just reached the street on which it lay, when Eric stopped dead. He had his arm around Sam's waist, so the hunter was pulled to a stop as well.

'What?'

'Get inside, arm yourself,' Eric urged. He was gazing off down the dark street. 'Go,' he ordered. Sam didn't hesitate. He had his gun in his belt, but he wanted the shotgun, so he ran for the motel room. He was just stuffing the key in the lock when the world went dark.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Last Chapter! (this is not a drill, people!)

Eric spun around at the sound of a dull thud. He had been so sure however was following them had been down the street, but he realised at that moment it had been a diversion to separate them. He sprinted back as fast as his supernatural speed would allow him. The motel door still had the key in. Eric strained his senses, trying to hear something, smell something, but it was useless.

'Sam!' he cried, but he knew the hunter had most likely been knocked out. He felt despair and fear rise within him. It wasn't often he felt those emotions. He turned back and ran for the bar, for even thinking about grabbing any sort of weapon in case it really wasn't vampires.

The place was still crowded, and Eric had to control himself as he pushed his way through the crowd. He reached the bar and recognised the bar maid, but Dean wasn't there. He leaned over and got her attention by using the full force of his glamour power. He didn't have time for anything else.

'You were flirting with a young man tonight, his name was Dean.'

'Yes,' she said tonelessly.

'Where is he?'

'He spotted someone in the crowd and followed them outside about five minutes ago.'

'Damn.' He thought for a moment. 'Did you recognise whoever Dean followed?'

'I think it was Emmett Jones.' If the girl knew this person, perhaps it was demons after all. Perhaps the possessed Emmett had flashed his black eyes at Dean to get him to come out of the bar.

'And where does Emmett Jones live?' Eric demanded. She gave up the address and directions. Eric left her dazed and confused, but unharmed. He ran as if his life depended on it.

The house was a nice old thing, situation a good distance outside the town proper. Perfect for nefarious purposes and demon games. He really, really hated hell spawn. The house was a three storied, red brick, heavy set building; all the foliage around it seemed to sag towards its weight. He watched the place from across the street behind a thick oak. The curtains were drawn in every window, but there was a light downstairs. Demons could see in the dark, couldn't they? Ah, but so could he. The question was, what was the best approach? They knew he was here, and surely they knew he was a vampire and would come for Sam, and Dean. They were expecting him...

Best not to keep them waiting.

He crossed the street in the open, walking at a leisurely pace. He headed up the nice paved path between rows of roses. The door held a big brass knocked shaped like a lion's paw, but he ignored it in favour of just opening the door. True to his expectations, it wasn't locked.

The hallway was stately, filled with an intimidating staircase. The open archway into the living room gave some light, which Eric followed.

The living room wasn't the damaged wreck he had expected. Instead it was lush room of typical upper middle-class American tastes, which Eric secretly detested. A big couch with even bigger cushions faced the fireplace, next to which stood a vampire.

In truth, not what he had expected, especially since he recognised said vampire.

'Patricia.' He got a smile for that, as if she truly hadn't expected him to remember her, but who could forget the Vampire Queen of Pennsylvania? The Indian Vampire, as they called her, or Native American these days, if you were the politically correct type.

She was of average height, far too thin for Eric's tastes yet muscled in a way that spoke of a hard life. Her hair was black, long and unkept, and made her face even longer. You could always tell she wasn't pure caucasian with that hair, though her skin was whiter than a native due to her vampirism. Still, there was something about the set of her eyes or the shape of her nose that spoke of European decent.

She wasn't beautiful like a women, but she could be pretty if she wanted, which she never had. She wore what Eric could only describe as a hippie-looking dress, brown with a floral pattern. In terms of appearance and impression, she was the exact opposite of Eric's own former Queen of Louisiana. Instead of a spoiled Gucci-queen with a love for money perhaps even greater than her love for blood, Patricia was a wild thing, refusing forever interaction with mortals despite the Great Revelation. Eric had met her once, briefly, at a party for his own Queen. One thing the two women did had in common: they were both crazy. It seemed to be a requisite to becoming queen.

'Eric Northman,' she greeted with a smile. 'You're a man in high demand these days, and hard to find.' Eric knew he was faster and stronger than Patricia - she was considered the youngest vampire ever to become queen at "only" four hundred years.

'Is that why you are here? Just for me?' He noted every tiny movement of her body, but she was being deceptively calm and he wasn't sure if she was alone, yet, so he waited.

'The Authority wants you dead,' she smiled, 'but not everything is about you.' Eric frowned slightly at her tone. Patricia was usually fiercely loyal to The Authority since they had given her a purpose to continue to exist, though that faith had been shaken since the Great Revelation. Had she gone rogue? If so, that could be a point in his favour. She didn't seem the type, however, crazy bitch that she was.

'Why are you here?' As if in answer, a scream of pain was heard from somewhere in the house. Eric recognised the voice; it was Sam. He couldn't help the slight twitch in his muscles as he fought to restrain himself from running to his hunter. Patricia noted this and smiled maliciously. She toyed with a lock of her wild hair.

'So you really are fond of the mortal,' she commented, 'My underlings told me they saw you kissing him, but I didn't really want to believe a vampire of your age would stoop so low... then again, you have already killed a King and mixed with... undesirable company.' Had Eric been mortal, he would probably have swallowed uncomfortably as he tried to figure a way out of the situation. As it was, he merely stared at the Queen impassively.

Another scream rose up, Dean this time. It told of a long resistance, and then a defeat. The scream was bit off quick, and the fight started up again. Eric knew it wouldn't be long before they wrenched the next scream from him. Vampires were good at torture. Not as good as demons in Hell, obviously, but good enough.

'What do you want with them? Why take them when you want me?' If they had wanted him, they could have just taken him in the street. Dean and Sam were the primary targets.

'Oh, I want you too,' Patricia assured him, 'no need to get jealous of your little mortals. We're all here for a party.'

'I will kill you,' Eric said. He knew he could, fairly easily.

'And your mortal toy will die,' Patricia pointed out unnecessarily, with an airy flick of her hair as if she was bored with the conversation already. 'I think the best thing you can do is surrender. We've been having such a good time in this town. Your Winchesters were the third hunting party to investigate, and boy did we finally hit the jackpot.'

'Give him to me, and I won't kill you. Kill him, and you die.' For a brief moment there was a look of disgust on her face. She couldn't abide the thought of Eric caring for a mortal.

Before she could answer, the double sliding doors to the next room slid apart, revealing a man. He was in his thirties and ordinary-looking. Eric was confused for a moment by the presence of such a mortal - Patricia was well-known for her utter hatred of all humans - when a scream of pain was heard from Dean, and the normal brown eyes suddenly turned black as if in response.

'Hell spawn,' Eric hissed. The demon gazed at Eric calculatingly, tilting its head to the side in a pantomime of human gestures. Eric looked to Patricia for an explanation, and got none. 'You are working with hell spawn?' The very idea was revolting. Patricia looked to the demon.

'What?' she demanded.

'We want a turn with the younger brother as well,' the demon told her. 'We want them both, together.'

'You'll have them eventually,' Patricia demurred, smiling a sweet smile. She walked towards the demon, and he watched her with black eyes. 'We'll all have a big party, together.' Eric almost looked away in disgust as Patricia reached out and trailed a finger down the demon's face. He seemed to enjoy it. Eric heard more screams, from both brothers. The demon disappeared, closing the doors again.

'How can you work with demons?' Eric demanded. Patricia returned slowly to her spot by the mantel.

'A bit of a hypocrite, aren't we?' She blinked slowly at him, her face a grotesque simile of innocence. 'I would much rather kill mortals with a few demons, then be in love with one of the disgusting creatures. Don't you see? Demons are our kindred spirit.'

'You are mad.' She didn't react to the taunt. Screams rose up and she tilted her head to listen, closing her eyes in bliss. Eric closed his fists, nails digging into his palms.

'I have seen the light,' she said dreamily, 'and it's the fires of Hell on earth.'

'Lucifer would destroy humanity,' Eric pointed out, 'he wouldn't leave any food for us at all.'

'No, he'll keep the mortals. To torture, and bleed,' she argued. 'There'll be lots of bleeding.' She opened her eyes again and stared at him. 'Sam's probably bleeding right now. He's with my underlings of course. They've all had a taste of him. Dean's with his pals from downstairs. I wanted to draw straws, as I'm all about fair play, but in the end we decided it just made sense this way.' Eric tried to stop himself from showing a reaction, but his teeth were grinding and he knew she could see it by the curve of her smile.

'That's it,' Eric said and moved.

She, despite her taunting, had clearly not expected Eric to react physically. She was truly shocked when he was across the room before she could blink, hand around her throat so tight she couldn't scream. He squeezed and squeezed until blood streamed from her eyes and then twisted the head off entirely. Even weaker than he had anticipated, he thought as he tossed the head into the empty fireplace. She had ruled through loyalty, not strength. The Indian Queen, a strange creature; the first vampire of the New World.

He spared her no more of his thoughts and moved quickly to the doors, pressing his ear to them to ascertain where in the house the screams were coming from. He had to free Sam first, who was with vampires he could more easily defeat. They could then turn their combined efforts on the demons.

His plan was dashed, however, when he entered the dining room. The chairs were thrown haphazardly around the room, but the table, a dark thing polished to perfection, held Sam's prone body. He was naked above the waist, arms and legs tied to the legs of the table, and had three vampires feeding on him.

All three heads lifted up at the sound of door opening. They were young creatures, Eric concluded, all male; the eldest couldn't be more than a couple hundred years, and the youngest clearly a fledging.

'Eric,' Sam gasped. They couldn't have taken much from him, as he seemed to be still struggling. They were drawing the feeding out for sport.

The vampire closest to the door, the eldest by Eric's reckoning, launched himself at the intruder. Eric spun to the right and caught the head under his arm, continuing his spin and lifting the vamp off his feet by his head and sending the body flying out of the room at high velocity. He didn't bother to see where it landed before being tackled by the next contender. This one was bigger of build and used his bulk to push Eric up agains the wall. Eric was quicker, though, and grabbed hold of the head, pushing his thumbs into the eye-sockets. The vampire screamed and Eric used the distraction the pain caused to twist off the head. He was really getting good at that. The body fell to the side and Eric dropped the head, eyeing the last vamp. The little thing was trembling with fear, shooting glances at the windows.

They made their move at the same time. Eric cut the vamp off before he could reach the windows. He grabbed the longish hair and pulled. The vampire screamed a high-pitched wail of fright. Eric put a stop to that quickly. That head was the easiest to pull off of them all. Such a young thing.

'Eric, untie me!' Sam yelled. Eric got the arms first and then the legs. Sam's torso was riddled with bite marks. 'You can heal them late,' Sam rebuffed before Eric could say anything. The hunter stumbled to his shirt and jacket, lying in a pile in the corner, and shrugged them on. 'They didn't take the knife, the idiots,' he muttered as he checked his pocket. They had probably assumed it to be a normal knife.

A scream caught their attention. It was downstairs, Eric was sure now. He checked with Sam, who gave him the "let's go" look. Just as they were about to burst into action, something drew their attention to the door Eric had just come through. Another demon wearing a young hispanic woman for a meat suit. Eric didn't have time to spare a thought to where the vampire he had thrown away had gone to.

'Go get Dean, I'll take care of her,' Sam decided, shifting the knife into a fighting position and crouching. The demon smiled in response, eyes blackening. Eric hesitated. 'Go!' He left.

He slammed through the destroyed rooms of the house, ending up in the kitchen before he found the entrance to the basement. He could see light coming from below, but luckily it appeared the stairs where not the type that someone could hide under. Eric paused and took a breath before he sped down them faster than a human could see, stopping dead the moment he hit the stone floor.

Dean was also naked from the waist up, but he wasn't tied to a table. He was hanging from four hooks piercing the skin of his shoulders and upper arms. Blood ran down his back in thick rivulets and knife cuts decorated his back and probably front, though Eric couldn't see it. Demons really were better at torture.

Two demons were playing, standing on either side of Dean's limp form. One of them the man who had interrupted Patricia. The other was a female, a nice old lady, probably the original owner of the house. They both looked up when Eric arrived. At first, they looked confused - perhaps they thought Eric worked for Patricia. That theory was quickly dashed, however, when Eric started chanting an exorcism.

'Stop it, or I'll kill him!' the male demon howled, holding his knife to Dean's throat. Eric didn't stop, but shrugged as if to say "go ahead," and charged instead. He used all his strength and power, and he was quite a sight.

The one with the knife at Dean's throat was first. Eric charged him until they both collided with the far wall, finishing it with a vicious punch to the demon's chest so hard he broke all the ribs. That wouldn't stop it, however, but it distracted it long enough for Eric to turn and accept the nice old lady's offering.

She slashed at him with her knife, screaming at the top of her lungs as Eric's ongoing exorcism made her head rattle. She managed a good two inch gash on Eric's arm. He knocked her away before she could go in for another and punched at her so hard she stumbled back and fell on her ass.

The male demon grabbed his shoulders from behind, but he had managed to keep his exorcism going uninterrupted, even through the pain in his arm, so the hold was desperate and clumsy. He grabbed the demon's hands before the hell spawn could choke him. The demon was screaming its head off, angry as only a hell spawn could manage.

The old lady's demon, watching from the floor, decided to call it quits before she was sent back to hell. Her mouth opened wide and the hell spawn flew out. The other demon seemed to lose its courage at that, and Eric felt the hands crawling at his throat go slack. He let go and the body fell to the floor. He didn't really care if it was dead or alive; he was too focused on the hunter.

Silent now that the torture was over and the demons were dead, Dean looked about as bad as hell warmed over. His chest was riddled with knife, nail and bite marks. His face was pale, almost lifeless, but somehow he lifted his head. His eyes were dull as he gazed at Eric, who hurried to his side to try and life him off the hooks.

'Fuck,' Dean swore when the hooks started to give. Eric lifted him easily with one arm around the torso, slipping the hooks off with his other hand. Dean went limp in his arms once his "support" was gone. 'Thanks.' Eric wasn't sure if he heard that last part.

He heard a crash from upstairs and started to lift Dean up to carry over his shoulder, but the hunter protested.

'I can walk, just help me,' he contradicted himself. Eric slung one arm over his shoulders and put the around the bloody waist, and dragged the hunter upstairs as fast as he could. Dean was silent despite the pain his shoulders had to be in.

They returned to the dining room to find Sam on the floor, a snarling demon on top of him. Eric was a second away from throwing Dean to the floor to intervene, but Sam surprised them by managing to stick the knife right into the demon's throat, spraying blood everywhere, including right across Sam's face. The hunter reacted instantly, pushing the demon off as if it would still bite him and rubbing at his face. Eric sat Dean down quickly in a chair that was still intact and hurried to Sam's side.

'Is there any on me?' Sam asked, voice filled with panic, his eyes wild. Eric knelt in front of him and grabbed his shaking hands.

'You're fine,' he said in the calmest voice he could muster under the circumstances. 'We need to get out of here. Dean might need a hospital and two demons got out, not to mention the vampire that's unaccounted for.' Sam nodded, putting himself together and getting up. Eric went back and hefted Dean up again. The hunter said not a word, but walked mostly by himself out of the house.

'I'll run back to the motel and get the car,' Eric told them. He handed Dean over to Sam as swift yet delicate as they could. Then he ran.

XXX

'Okay, lie down on your stomach,' Sam urged his brother. He had patched up the bite and knife marks with bandages in the car, but the holes from the hooks needed stitches. Fucking hooks, was all Sam could think as he surveyed the damage. Dean was limp as a rag doll, probably exhausted from the pain more than the blood loss. They hadn't stuck the hooks deep, but thanks to Dean's weight the wounds were pulled open. Sam swallowed at the sight and set to work preparing his needle and thread. He hadn't asked if Dean rather wanted some of Eric's help. He was pretty sure Dean didn't want any supernatural help.

'Get me the whiskey bottle,' Sam told Eric, nodding towards the duffle bag. Eric got it out and handed it to Sam, who used it to clean the wounds and then leaned forward to pour some into Dean's mouth. His brother lapped it up gratefully. His head flopped back down after. Sam kinda hope he passed out. There had been enough pain for one night.

'I need to go,' Eric told him, standing by the bed looking a little lost with nothing to do. Sam glanced up at him. 'I can heal your wounds before I go.'

'They're fine,' Sam said, shifting his weight a bit to feel out his wounds. The bite marks weren't big, just painful. They had taunted him mostly. They could smell Eric on him, apparently. The thought made him shiver. 'Just a few bandaids and I'll be fine. You should go. The sun's coming.' Eric looked out the window at the brightening sky, before turning back to Sam.

'You'll be gone by nightfall?'

'Yeah, we'll head northwest, I think,' Sam said. 'Hopefully two states over by the time you catch up.'

'We'll talk tomorrow night then,' Eric concluded and made for the door. Sam looked up, catching the vampire's eye as Eric glanced back at the same moment.

'Do you think other vampires are working with demons?' Sam asked.

'I do not know,' Eric said truthfully, but the thought filled him with dread. Sam returned to his stitching, and Eric left.

The sky was brightening quickly, so Eric walked hurriedly towards a wooded area down the road. They had driven as fast as they could out of town, and had reached a small gathering of houses more than a proper town, but it had a motel so they had parked around back. He didn't have time to find a graveyard so he would have to sleep in the earth. The cold embrace of it sounded appealing right then.

A van parked on the side of the road suddenly roared to life. Eric at first didn't think anything of it, but then it suddenly sped towards him. If they were local hooligans out for some fun, they were certainly going to get it. The black van stopped right next to him and the door slid open.

Four vampires all reached for him. The last thing he felt was a needle in his throat, and then darkness took him just as the sun rose.

XXX

Dean had finally decided he would drive the next shift. His shoulders still hurt like a bitch, but watching Sam getting distracted every two seconds was going to do him a lot more harm in the end, so he had ordered Sam to pull over.

Four days of bitch-faced Sam. It was enough to drive any man crazy.

He hadn't even dared ask about Sam's reaction to getting demon blood on his face. It's not like they hadn't gotten sprayed countless times before from all sorts of creatures. Sure, it was creepy, but Sam's reaction seemed off. He had kept silent about it, however, under the circumstances.

Three days and no sign of the vampire. After the first night with no answer and no call, Sam had turned the Impala around. They had searched everywhere around the motel they had crashed in after the hook incident, as Dean now though of it, but had found no signs of anything.

They were two states over again now, and Dean wanted to take a case Bobby had sent them. Sam seemed to be comfortable in his limbo of dark thoughts and bouts of anger. Like right now, Sam was just staring out the window. He still had a bandaid on his neck from where one of the fuckers had bitten him, and he was still missing his own vampire like Eric was his lost puppy.

'We have no leads,' Dean broke the silence. He preferred talking in the car. Less eye contact.

'He might call,' Sam said for the hundredth time.

'We've been stuck like this before, and you know what we do? We keep hunting.' He didn't say he thought Eric was dead, but he pretty much assumed it was a sure thing.

'I know,' Sam sighed reluctantly. 'I know, all right? It's just... this is my fault.'

'How is it your fault?'

'I dragged him into this,' Sam pointed out. 'It was all me. I asked him to help us. He could be happy at his club down in Louisiana, but I fucked it up.'

'He's a vampire,' Dean argued. 'I'm sure he didn't expect things to remain the same forever. Besides, I think I remember something about him showing up on our doorstep and kissing you.' He didn't like saying it, but he had to stop Sam from thinking such stupid thoughts.

'I just hope he's okay,' Sam mumbled.

'He's lived a thousand years, right?' Dean asked, vaguely remembering someone mentioning it. Sam confirmed it with a nod. 'I'm sure he'll outlive us all.' Sam's sad face relaxed a tiny increment, so Dean considered it a victory. He sped up towards the next case.

He tried to ignore the part of him that was clinging to the hope that Eric really was okay.

The End

-:-

Notes: Yes, this is the end of Supernatural Blood. I wanted to end this story so that I could (eventually) start on a fresh page for the next installment. I need a break from this world to figure some things out, and I need to start focusing on my other story as well, so it works out nicely that way.

Note on Patricia: I don't use original characters often, but when I do use them I make sure to write up a profile of them before I ever write a word of dialogue for them in the story. Usually, this profile just sits on my computer, but I thought maybe you'd like to see it? Add a review/comment and I'll post it!

Note to readers: Thanks you so much for going on this crazy ride with me. It spawned from just a single fact that Sam and Eric are the same height (in real life). I hope you've enjoyed yourself, and thank you for reading. You're awesome.


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